


Things Come Apart

by Sherlock1110, sherlockian4evr



Series: The Detective, His Doctor, His Brother and His DCI [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Biting, Blindfolds, Bondage, Butt Plugs, Cock & Ball Torture, Collars, Dom!John, Dominance, Fucking Machines, Gags, Hair-pulling, Handcuffs, Humiliation, M/M, Nipple Clamps, Predicament Bondage, Prostate Milking, Riding Crops, Saint Andrews Cross, Slapping, Spanking, Sub!Mycroft, Submission, Switch!Greg, Switch!Mycroft, Vibrators, dom!Greg, sub!Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-03-14 01:50:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13583463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian4evr/pseuds/sherlockian4evr
Summary: Dom!John and sub!Sherlock seem to have things together, but Greg, still acting as a Dom, is having trouble with Mycroft who can't seem to keep it together in his current role as a sub.





	1. Well Done

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was complete quite some time ago, but due to to technical difficulties we were having with our collaboration tools, it was misplaced. It fills in the gap between "A Whole New Level" and "Holiday".

“It was a complete accident,” Mycroft insisted. "I shouldn't have let him run the checks alone."

"How was I supposed to know I'd come up with something like this?" Sherlock snapped, glaring at his brother. "The case was a bloody armed robbery not rent boys!"

Greg sighed from his chair. One upside of his promotion from DI to DCI was the bigger office. The four of them could fit comfortably. "Mycroft, come here and kneel."

The government official knelt where his boyfriend had pointed, still happy with taking the submissive role in their relationship.

John snapped his fingers and pointed to the spot between his own feet. Sherlock glided over and knelt without objection. "My question," the doctor said, "is what happens next?"

Greg ran his hands over his face. "This is too big for even me to handle. I can't just take it to my Superintendent because it will be too big for him too. We need to go further up."

"Might I suggest I be the one to do that?" Sherlock asked. "Any flack that comes back will therefore be aimed at me."

"I have to be involved, Sherlock,” Greg insisted, “they'd never believe you alone. But thanks."

The detective had to concede he was right.

"Will you get yours to lock the door, John, I don't want anyone walking in on this. And shut the blinds,” Greg requested.

The doctor nudged Sherlock with his knee. "Do as he said, pet."

Still thinking about the problem, the detective crawled over to the door and locked it, then he shut the blinds. Sitting back on his heels, he folded his hands beneath his chin.

John shook his head. "All well and good doing that, Sherlock, but do it over here where I can see you."

Sighing, the detective crawled back over and knelt where he had been.

Mycroft glanced up at his Dom.

"Go on." Greg could sense the older man wanting to say something.

"I don't know the… who comes after this man?" Mycroft asked.

"The Borough Commander. But he's never about."

"I don't know him, but I know the Deputy Commissioner. Would that be more suitable?"

"Definitely," Greg agreed, placing a hand on the government official's shoulder.

"Then I shall call him and arrange for a discreet meeting. Sherlock, try not to insult the man," Mycroft warned.

"Shut up, Mycroft,” Sherlock snapped.

John smacked the back of his boy’s head. "Put your hands behind your head, Sherlock," he ordered.

The detective obeyed, all the while glaring at Mycroft.

"I mean it, little brother. This man has powers close to my own."

"Fine," Sherlock spat. "I'll behave."

"I'll see that he does," John promised. "So do we just sit tight, or what?"

"My boss is using underage rent boys, I will bloody well not sit tight!" Greg snapped. His hand fisted in Mycroft's thinning hair.

The government official sat perfectly still and let the DCI do as he pleased, it was only hair after all.

"I need to de-stress and think about this. Mycroft give me your hands."

Cautiously Mycroft moved to obey.

As soon as he could, Greg grabbed both his wrists and pressed them through cuffs behind his back. Then he picked him up by his jacket and pressed him over his desk. "Stay still," he ordered, tugging his boyfriend's trousers down.

The government official sighed in relief, they hadn't 'played' in days and the Chief Superintendent wasn't going anywhere.

Greg parted Mycroft's cheeks roughly, exposing his hole. "I know you've missed this. I have." He let go and slapped the government official's arse.

Mycroft pressed his face into the desk and closed his eyes. He anticipated, but appreciated every single slap of Greg's hand.

When Mycroft's arse was a rosy red all over, the DCI grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and pulled him upright. He pulled his pants back up and managed to get his shirt tucked back in without the older man's help, then he spun him around, moving the cuffs to the front and kissed him roughly.

The government official forgot himself and brought his cuffed hands up to Greg's to hold on.

The DCI laughed into Mycroft's mouth. "You want more?"

"Yes, sir," he puffed. "You, sir."

Greg's laugh carried on into Mycroft's mouth. Up until the knock on the door. It jerked all four occupants out of their own minds.

"Gov?"

"Shit," Greg hissed as he released the handcuffs. "Mycroft, do your tie and jacket up. One sec!" He yelled out.

Sherlock had pushed himself from his knees to the seat beside John.

Greg ran to the door. It didn't take much to shoo the bloke away. He shut the door behind him again. "We should watch what we do in here."

"Boring," Sherlock noted. "Mycroft, would you place your call, so we can get this over with?"

The elder Holmes pulled out his phone and made the call, setting things in motion.

* * *

John grinned as the Chief Superintendent was arrested and taken away. There was something particularly satisfying about it. It was as if he had been looking forward to it from the night he had chinned the man.

Sherlock wandered out the building behind John and Greg.

A car pulled up and Mycroft climbed out. He detoured to the DCI immediately and wrapped his arms around him. "That was a job well done, Gregory."

"I'd say it was a job well done on everyone's part, pet," the DCI whispered into Mycroft's ear. "Your brother was actually on his best behaviour."

"Trust me," he glanced over Greg's shoulder. "He had perfect reasons for doing so."

"Did you threaten him?" Greg asked.

Mycroft smirked. "I may have made John threaten him. He doesn't listen to me anymore."

The DCI laughed and hugged his boyfriend tight. "Thank you, babe." He looked over at the car. "Let's get the hell out of here. I've had about all I can stand."

"DCI Lestrade!"

Greg sighed. "I bloody hate my job sometimes." He spun on his toe. "Who are you?"

"PC Cooke, you're needed back at the Yard, sir."

Greg ran his hands over his face. "Alright. Thanks." The man went to leave, but he called him back. "Who wants to see me?"

"The Deputy Commissioner, gov."

"Right. You'd better drive, babe. And those two better join us. John!"

John grabbed Sherlock's hand. "Come on." He raised his voice. "What is it, Greg?"

"I've been summoned." The DCI grimaced. He looked at Sherlock. "Are you sure you behaved the whole time?"

Sherlock frowned. "I don't know! Yes. I suppose. There wasn't much for me to go wrong on. I asked questions, he answered."

"Sherlock, you walked in on him doing it!" Greg snapped.

The detective's head bowed slightly, "Sir, I swear, I did nothing wrong." He got into the car, folding himself down onto the floor by John.

"I believe you." The doctor tangled his fingers in the detective's hair. "Maybe this isn't a bad thing, Greg."

"Seriously? I hadn't met this man until 3 days ago and suddenly he's at the Yard wanting to see me. How can it be anything other than bad? Are you sure nothing was said or done?" He looked at Sherlock.

"Yes, sir. I'm sure."

"Ok. So I can defend you with a light heart, yes?"

"Yes, sir." Sherlock placed his head in the doctor's lap. "I wouldn't let John down... or you."

Greg turned and looked in the back seat. "Alright." He turned back around and looked out the window, nervous.

"Gregory, I can-" Mycroft began.

The DCI held his hand up. "No. You will not interfere. If I've done something to screw up I'll take the consequences."

"And if it was him?" He glanced at his kneeling brother.

"It wasn't."

They pulled up at the Yard and Mycroft parked. "Shall I wait here, sir?" he asked.

Greg took a deep breath. "Walk with me as far as my office. If I'm about to get my balls handed to me on a platter, I'll want you nearby when it's over."

"I could do that for you, sir?" he asked cheekily.

Greg smirked. "You two better wait with him. I may need you for witnesses or something." He sighed heavily as he got out the car and shot off a text to Donovan to warn her.

There wasn't much banter as they made their way to his office level. Greg used the time to gather himself and prepare for the meeting to come. When the lift doors opened, they stepped out. The DCI nodded to the other three men, then headed towards his office where the Deputy Commissioner waited. He caught Sally's eye and exchanged worried expressions. She shrugged then winked before disappearing.

* * *

Greg was gone hours. They'd moved from the few chairs scattered around CID to the cafeteria.

"The longer he's in there the more nervous I'm getting," Mycroft complained. "I just want to be at home."

"You mean, you want him to tie you over a bench and take it out on you," Sherlock countered.

The government official merely snorted in derision.

When Greg finally emerged over 2 hours later he looked bewildered and in shock.

Mycroft stood, his hand outstretched. "Gregory? Was is that bad?"

"I don't believe it." Greg took his boyfriend's hand. "I simply don't believe it."

"But I didn't do anything wrong!" Sherlock complained.

"No, no. It's not that. I just got promoted. Again." Greg's mouth broke out into a broad smile.

Sherlock blinked stupidly and suddenly he was enveloped by the grey haired man.

"Greg… what-?"

He was laughing uncontrollably, still holding onto Sherlock. "It's only been a few months since I was promoted last, but they said they'd been watching the Chief Super for ages and couldn't get anything to stick. My superior officer took his job and I've got his… I…"

"Speechless." John joined in with the laugh.

Greg finally let go of the detective and hugged his own boyfriend. "This definitely calls for a celebration." He lowered his voice. "And I know just how I want to do it, with you on your knees in front of me."

Mycroft grinned, got to his feet and walked from the room as quickly as he could without arousing suspicion.  
When the two older men were gone, John wrapped his arms around the detective.

"You really didn't do anything wrong, babe."

"No, sir. I was careful. You know that."

"Yes, I do." After a brief look around to be sure they weren't being watched, John insinuated his hand into Sherlock's trousers and grabbed his cock. "I think you deserve a reward."

Sherlock pulled the latest set of handcuffs he had pick pocketed from Greg. "Do you want to use these, sir?"

John laughed. He quickly pulled his arms behind him and snapped them around his wrists, then he picked his coat up and slipped the sleeves into his pockets to look like it was Sherlock doing it. Finally, he draped it over his shoulders. He tucked his scarf in too and buttoned it up around him.

"Come on, pet. They're probably waiting on us."


	2. Celebration

Greg had Mycroft pressed up against the car, snogging him when John and Sherlock caught up with him.

"Actually, it looks like they started without us," the doctor quipped as he opened the car door for his boyfriend.

Mycroft took one look at his brother and laughed.

It took Greg a moment to catch up and join in with the laughing.  
"It's gonna be harder for you to pick pocket me now mate."

The detective stuck his tongue out at Greg, earning him a shove in the back from John. "None of that, boy. Don't ruin the mood."

"It's fine," Greg said, laughing. "Nothing could ruin the mood today."

"Get in the car, Sherlock," John ordered.

He needed a hand in and was shoved to his knees immediately.

"Myc, you can drive again," Greg ordered.

"Yes, sir," the government official replied, slightly disappointed. He would have been happy to put his hand to good use in Greg's lap as they travelled. He glanced in the mirror to see what the other couple was doing.

John had Sherlock's coat off and had him pressed into the chair, while he sat on him.

"Drive then, Mycroft," John told him. "This would be more comfortable for the both of us if I had him on a bench."

Sherlock giggled as the car rumbled along its way. John had worked his fingers under his shirt and was busy counting each of his ribs. "I haven't lost any of them, sir," Sherlock puffed.

"Shut it, you're mine now."

"I'm always yours."

"Yeah. But you did bloody fantastically today."

"I owe you a pint," Greg called back. "Or two. Shall we stop off at the pub on the way home?"

"Or a D/s club, sir?" Mycroft suggested.

Greg turned to look over his shoulder. "John? What do you think?"

"I think," the doctor tweaked one of Sherlock's nipples, "that a club is an excellent idea. I'd love to show this one off."

"Any problems, Sherlock? If so, safe word now and we'll go home."

"If we go home will we still play?"

"Yeah. Yes, babe. Of course."

Sherlock thought about it for a moment. "The club."

Mycroft, smiling, changed routes and headed for the club. "I took the precaution of obtaining memberships for each of us just in case." He glanced over at his boyfriend. "May I continue in the role of the sub, sir?" Mycroft had asked just as they pulled up to the club. When the car engine was off, the… new Superintendent snagged his collar and pulled him over.

The government official scrambled over the handbrake as Greg dragged him from the car, then he was pushed to his knees. "Does that answer your question, boy?"

"Yes, sir," Mycroft said with a grin.

"I only wish I had a collar to put on you while we were in there." Greg wrapped his hands around the government official's neck.

"There might be some stuff in the boot, sir. But I doubt it. We should be able to buy stuff inside."

Before he was finished speaking, John had Sherlock by the scruff of his neck, his coat lay on the seat and his cuffed wrists now obvious to the world.

"My boy needs a new collar anyway," John said agreeably. He started unbuttoning Sherlock's shirt, exposing a good portion of his chest. "That's better." Then he pulled him to his feet and shoved him towards the door.

"This way, is it, Mycroft?" Greg asked.

"Err… yes, sir. It shouldn't be that busy," he added to his Dom. "Not mid week."

They had no trouble gaining admittance, their memberships having been sorted as Mycroft had promised.

Inside the club, the atmosphere was relaxed. There were obvious Dom/sub couples spread about, the subs mostly knelt at their Dom's feet.

John still had Sherlock by the scruff of the neck, they passed a couple on the way to a a large counter at the side. They laughed at Sherlock's predicament.

"He been a naughty boy then?"

"You don't know the half of it. He's always naughty. Aren't you, pet?"

"Yes, sir. Because you like me that way."

John slapped Sherlock on the arse. "Such cheek. And in public, too."

"Sorry, sir."

The man they'd bumped into laughed again. "He always like that?"

John tightened his grip and then shoved him in Greg's direction. "Yeah. Pretty much."

John found a table in the corner that wasn't being used and shoved his sub roughly to his knees. "You have far too many clothes on for this place." He sat down in a nearby chair. "What I really want to do is cut them off of you… but for now." He began unbuttoning the rest of Sherlocks shirt. He pushed it - as well as his jacket - down off his shoulders so both items of clothing bunched up at his cuffed wrists. "Can't have you to going home in no clothes. Now, get up, join Greg over there. We'll be getting you a new collar and… some other items."

The four of them met at a small shop inside the club that carried high end sex gear. A blonde woman wearing black leather greated them. She looked over each of them appreciatively. "How can I help you gentlemen?"

It was immediately obvious who the subs were, even if she ignored Sherlocks shirt. The two Dom's pushed their respective boyfriends to the floor.

"Our trip here was rather… spontaneous," Greg finished.

The woman produced a selection of collars for their perusal. John fingered a black leather one that he thought would look splendid around Sherlock's neck. It had several D rings that could come in handy in multiple situations. "May I?"

At her nod, he picked it up and wrapped it around Sherlocks neck.

"This one will do nicely."

Greg had picked up a matching one and was doing the same.

"Do you have private rooms here?" John asked. He like the atmosphere of the place but he wanted a bit of time with it just the four of them. Even as he spoke he saw Greg eyeing up a collection of other things from the wall at the back.

"Two blindfolds please," John told the woman. He took them and tossed one to Greg.

"There's no need to let them see everything we're buying." He slipped one over Sherlock's eyes as the newly promoted Superintendent did the same to Mycroft.

"Bollocks," Mycroft hissed. He didn't need to deduce the incoming slap, it was instant.

John hummed for a while staring at the array of equipment. "That one, that one and whatever Greg wants."

The woman put everything in bags for them.

"Charge it to Mycroft Holmes," Greg told her, taking the bags from her. He whipped the blindfold off his boyfriend. "You can walk to the private room. John would you get the key?"

"Sure thing." The doctor held out his hand and the woman dropped it into his palm with a wink. "Sorry. I'm completely taken." He took off Sherlock's blindfold. "I think you can crawl."

"Sir, why do-"

John cut him off by slapping him. "I said, you can crawl."

"Yes, sir. Of course, sir."

The woman leant over the counter. "Definitely taken."

"She's a Dom anyway," Sherlock couldn't help but blurt out.

"No deducing the staff, boy." He hooked his fingers in Sherlock's hair and tugged him along. They followed Mycroft and Greg to the private room that had been arranged, the detective crawling the entire way.

Sherlock bent over panting as soon as he was given the chance.

"If you wanted me to crawl, you could have uncuffed-" John slapped him again.

"Watch your tongue, or I'll watch it for you."

The doctor unlocked the door and held it open for the others to enter. He gave a hum of approval as he entered behind them. The room wasn't over done. It certainly didn't look like the setting from a cheap porn film. It was more comfortable in style, with simple furnishings.  
John turned on Sherlock. "Stand up."

When he had struggled to his feet he grinned. "Kneel."

Sherlock glared at him. "John-"  
All he received was another slap and an achingly hard cock. He needed his clothes off now to relieve the growing pressure in his trousers. They were starting to be confining in the extreme.

John crouched down and grabbed his cock and bollocks in his fist through his trousers.  
"It's like he's wet himself," he laughed in the new Superintendent's direction.

"He really is a naughty boy. Not like mine," he was running his hands roughly through Mycroft's hair.

The government official wasn't so sure about that. It was all he could do not to squirm under Greg's attentions. He wanted those hands in other interesting places. He bit his lip to hold back a groan of frustration.

Greg ignored what Mycroft wanted. Apart from him wanting to remain the sub, that meant he had to do whatever Greg felt like and they were celebrating. "Go and kneel next to your brother."

Greg sat on the sofa, laughing, as he toed off his shoes. "Superintendent! Who'd have thought…" He pulled off his socks and tucked them inside his shoes, then, after removing his jacket, started unbuttoning his shirt.

He watched the two kneeling subs in front of him. "Lets tie them together."

John glanced up and grinned. "Great idea. There's some rope around somewhere. I want to tie them together by their bollocks."

"Oh, good one, mate!" Greg sprang up and grabbed the rope he had seen on the nearby table. He walked over to Mycroft. "Clothes off now, pet. I want to see some skin."

Sherlock's shirt and jacket was still bunched at his wrists.  
"I will uncuff you, boy, but not for long. Don't struggle."

Sherlock smirked, clearly saying if he wanted to fight and struggle, he would.

"Greg, a hand," John requested, seeing the look on his boy's face. "I don't trust this one."

The newly promoted Superintendent grabbed Sherlock by the curls and bent his head back painfully.

He hissed in a breath and Greg grinned down at him. "Being a brat, Sherlock?"

"I just got you another promotion, fuck me now."

"No, not a chance, boy."

John removed the handcuffs, fully expecting an immediate fight, but Sherlock held his position. The twinkle in his eye kept the Dom from relaxing however. He finished removing his boy's jacket and shirt, remaining on high alert at all times.

With the way Greg held his head, Sherlock didn't really have much of a choice with whether he could fight or not.

"Is that your superior police training working there, mate?" John asked with a laugh.

"But of course." He looked down at Sherlock and winked. "Plus years of dealing with this wanker."


	3. Conundrum

John had Sherlock's trousers unfastened. "Let him up enough to get these off."

Greg eased up enough to let Sherlock crouch and peel off the remainder of his clothes.

"But I have to point out, being the boss and all now, I can't be seen to be… selective with who I use a bit of rough with at work… so…" He used his other hand to grab Mycroft's hair and pulled his head back.

"Ow!"

"Oh, Mycroft, really?" Greg asked sweetly. "You're in for a rough night."

"But that hurt!"

Greg did it again. 

"You know, I'm glad we've got a private room, these two would be an embarrassment otherwise,” John observed.

That made both Holmeses freeze. 

"Good." John forced the cuffs back onto Sherlock's wrists and began wrapping the rope around his cock and bollocks.

"Help me get his trousers off?" The older Dom asked.

John immediately bent to the task, unfastening Mycroft's trousers and pulling them free along with his pants. "Greg, yours looks pretty excited, too."

"It's been a busy few days."

The doctor chucked him the other end of the rope and Greg began tying it around the government official's cock.

"Let's get them nice and uncomfortable."

From the expression on Mycroft's face, that's exactly what the newly promoted Superintendent achieved. "Sir, I-"

"Shut it, boy. This is just the beginning." Greg tugged on his pet's bound cock and balls, making him suck in a pained breath.

He used his unrelenting grip on Sherlock's hair to pull him so he was as close beside his brother as possible.

"Actually… John step on that rope."

Both subs winced before the doctor had even moved.

"Now you turn that way, Sherlock, you turn that way." What Greg managed to achieve with that, was the two brothers facing opposite directions, back to back, with a gap between them only big enough for their feet, and their cock and bollocks pulled back between their legs.

"Excellent thinking," John said appreciatively. "That's why you keep getting the big promotions." He stepped in front of Sherlock and pinched one of his nipples almost casually.

"It's called thinking outside the box."

"Shut up!" Sherlock yelled out, he couldn't help himself, he had been well behaved all day, with the questions and the awkward circumstances, but now he just had to be a brat.

"And that's why we bought that one item. Greg, you're closer. Toss it to me?"

The Superintendent looked through the bags, then picked one up and threw it to John who caught it. The doctor held out a bright orange dildo-shaped gag and waved it in front of his sub. "I had a feeling we might need this."

What happened next, for the mood the two Doms were in, was hilarious.  
John tried pushing it into the detective's mouth, but Sherlock was having none of it. He jerked away, straining his cock and therefore Mycroft's as he did so.

Mycroft went red in the face from the pain. "Sherlock!" he cried out with a strangled sound. If he could have, he would have throttled his brother himself.

Sherlock's face was just as red and he hunched over. He barely registered the Dom's laughter overhead.

John grabbed the curls that were at the back of his head and he yanked it back.

"You little shit, look what you've done to your brother!"

"My brother! How about myself?!"

John shook his head. "Always thinking about yourself, aren't you? Open that mouth." 

He forced the gag between Sherlock's teeth and managed to buckle it tight before his sub could spit it out.

Mycroft had leant over panting. Greg did the same thing to Mycroft, but he had no second gag to hand so he shoved in his fingers instead.

The government official sucked on Greg's fingers gratefully. They provided a distraction from the pain in his private bits. He looked up through watering eyes at his Dom, trying to deduce what would happen next.

He didn't expect his boyfriend to bend down and grab his cock. He yelled and this time it was his fault the rope was yanked between the two kneeling men.

Sherlock grunted something at John that could have been 'see' as he doubled over in pain again.

"This is too much fun." John grabbed his sub by the hair and pulled him up straight once more. "I wonder how long we can keep this going?"

Mycroft panted through the next burst of pain, ignoring Sherlock's muffled yelling.

"Sir, sirs, please," Mycroft complained for him and his brother.

"Please what?"

"Please, untie us, sirs. It bloody hurts."

"John?" Greg asked, "what do you think?"

"It seems far too soon to me. But if you're nice, we might move these benches so you can both lay over them. That would give you each some stability."

"We don't want stability we want them untied!"

"Tut, tut, boy," Greg warned, slapping Mycroft.

Mycroft reached instinctively towards his cheek to rub away the sting, but Greg grabbed his wrist. "I don't think so." He shoved it back down forcefully. "If you want any relief, you'll ask us nicely to bring the benches over."

Mycroft just glared up at him. He was sure if given the chance, Sherlock would have been ranting and raving at the brutal tug every now and then when John kept treading on the rope between them.

"Have it your way, boy." Greg stepped away and pulled a riding crop from one of the bags. "I'll be happy to make you both dance with this."

"Wait! Sir!"

"Wait? Why should I?" He ran the crop over Mycroft's naked shoulders. "Why should we wait for you? It's you two that seem to have the problem at the moment. Not me or John."

"I'll cooperate with anything you want sir," Mycroft offered.

"You see, here's the thing. I. Want. This." Greg gave Mycroft a little shove, sending him rocking and making him pull on the rope tied between him and Sherlock again.

"This is brilliant!" John grinned. "You two tied together like puppets."

"It's even better that yours can't talk!"

John had moved a bench in front of Sherlock. He grabbed him by the curls and forced him forward over it. "Stay there," he said, releasing him and stepping back.

Mycroft sighed with relief at the little bit of slack that his brother's new position provided to the rope.

"You've got to ask for your bench Mycroft, in fact beg."

"If I don't?" He grumbled. It was obvious really…

John stepped on the rope again. "That answer enough for you?"

As soon as his eyes stopped watering, Mycroft threw pride aside and begged, "Please, sirs, may I have the bench?" Behind him, Sherlock whined his agreement.

"You can do better than that."

Mycroft moaned his complaint.

"Gregory, please, sir."

"Why should I let you?"

"Because you love me?"

The Superintendent laughed, then bent to kiss his sub thoroughly. Mycroft thought he had convinced him, but he was sorely disappointed at Greg's next words. "Nice try, babe, but not quite good enough."

"Please, Gregory, sir. The things you want to do to me, you can do them better with me over the bench."

Greg incline his head, humming.

"It's fairly easy to torture your bollocks with you tied there. Actually, you're not quite tied enough. John, did we get any more cuffs in that bag?"

"You know there are." John fetched them for Greg, slapping them into his hand. He spoke quietly into the other Dom's ear, "Do you want me to get the bench?"

Greg nodded as he grabbed Mycroft's wrist and fastened one of the cuffs around it.

The government official was pulled to his feet and thrown over a bench directly beside his brother.

Sherlock was keeping perfectly still, trying to get a clear breath around the gag.

The benches were so close together, they were laying almost thigh to thigh. Greg picked up the forgotten riding crop and brought it down across their arses, one after the other in quick succession.

This time, all moving did was disrupt their own comfort.

"What sort of equipment is in this place, Mycroft?"

"All sorts, sir," he puffed in John's direction as Greg dropped blow after blow on his and Sherlock's arses consecutively.

"Where?"

"That door- ow! That door leads to a back room that connects all the- ow! Private rooms, sir."

The doctor walked over and opened the door. Sherlock watched him disappear, wondering what his Dom would find tucked away back there. Greg noticed the detective's attention wander and dealt his arse a particularly jarring blow. Sherlock closed his eyes in annoyance.

"Hey, Greg, come and see this lot."

John had opened the back room and flicked the light on, it seemed to run for miles in either direction.

"I'm using this," he declared pulling out a machine on wheels.

Greg laughed at the sight of the younger Dom.

"Use it on mine, yours needs an attitude adjustment."

John pulled the machine all the way over to the benches and lined it up in front of Mycroft. 

The government official tilted his head back to have a look and didn't like what he saw just ahead of him.

"You can have a pretty little fake cock in your mouth now, too!" He said with a manic grin.

John removed the dildo that was attached to the machine. "But we'll be using one of our new toys on it. There's no telling where this one's been." He fetched the dildo out of the bag and attached it to the machine. "There, that's better."

The new one was bigger than the last one in width, but not length.

"Sir, I don't think-"

John picked up the discarded crop and smacked Mycroft's arse with it.

"You don't get an opinion. Is that clear?" When he got no response, he brought the crop down again. "Is it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now open."

Not really having a choice, Mycroft let his mouth fall open.

John pushed the machine until only the head of the new dildo was in Mycroft's mouth then he pushed the breaks on.

"John!"

The doctor ruffled both Holmeses' hair and almost skipped back to the cupboard.

"What'cha found?" John asked the other Dom. "Anything exciting?"

"Depends. There's a portable Saint Andrews Cross. Stocks. A padded horse. Anything you want."

"If I start walking that way I'll end up under Baker Street," John laughed.  
"If I go that way I'll end up in the Yard."

The two men retreated back to their private room when they heard a noise.

Mycroft had backed off the dildo and had straightened up, ignoring the pull in his bollocks

Greg shook his head. "Now who's being naughty?" He grabbed his sub by the hair. "I should have attached those cuffs to the bench." He pushed Mycroft back down. Using a clip on the bench, he attached the cuffs to it. "That's better."

Then he used a second clip to attach his collar down too.

Sherlock had remained completely motionless. He saw his Dom storming towards him and flinched down into the bench as much as he could.


	4. Discovered

John pulled the gag free and Sherlock panted, trying to get the first full breath in a while.

"So suddenly you're the good boy."

"Sir?" Sherlock swallowed nervously. What was the right answer to that?

John crouched down in front of him. "Don't worry. I don't believe it for a second."

"No, sir, I-"

"Quiet!" He slapped him and Sherlock closed his mouth.

"What happened to them obeying our every command like a few weeks ago? The pair of them were perfect little boys, and now… it's like they aren't scared what we will do to them when they misbehave anymore."

"I think they're winding us up on purpose." John held Sherlock's face between his palms. He kissed him firmly, biting his bottom lip for good measure. "You know how they get when we haven't played in a while."

"I thought the new way of doing things was the way they liked it."

Sherlock tried to open his mouth, but the doctor didn't let him, even Mycroft tugged at the collar.

Greg pulled the St. Andrew's Cross from the cupboard.

"Let's put yours on this, mine can suck that." He nodded at the machine.

John's eyes lit up. "I hope you like the sound of that, pet, but it doesn't matter if you don't." The doctor moved around behind Sherlock and untied his cock and bollocks, then lifted him to his feet.

He wasn't going to give him the chance to run or fight. For his part, Sherlock stayed still in John's arms until he was dumped in front of the cross.

The Superintendent stepped forward and began unbuckling the cuffs.

Just as John reached to pull his boy to his feet, Sherlock lurched to the side. Greg was there to intercept him and, with John's help, they wrestled him into place. The older man held him there whilst John buckled the cuffs around Sherlock's wrists.

The detective's face screwed up in frustration as he tugged repeatedly at his now restrained wrists.

"There must be more rope around somewhere," John wanted to know. "Can't have Mycroft's bollocks the only uncomfortable ones."

Sherlock kicked out.

"Bloody hell!" Greg grabbed the sub's foot and held it. "You are begging for it, aren't you, boy? John I saw some rope by one of the sofas. Help me get his legs tied down."

It wasn't as easy to get his feet tied as it was to get his wrists out the way just before.

Once they had managed it, they used the remaining length to wrap around his cock, down his length and then around his bollocks in a figure of 8. John dropped to one knee and tugged it sharply. Sherlock yelped.

"There must be some weights on one of the shelves in there. Oh, don't look so sorry for yourself," John told him, seeing the look of dread on his boy's face. "If you didn't want it, you wouldn't have struggled so hard."

"I would have-"

John pressed the dildo gag back into his mouth to shut him up.

"Greg, do you want to find those weights? I'll deal with the machine."

"How do you know what buttons do what?"

"Tell you what, let's get mine uncomfortable and then I'll show you."

John stood there, tugging on the rope dangling from Sherlock's bollocks at random intervals. "If you intend to give us a workout, we're up for it, boy." He tugged again, harder, causing his boy to wince and cry out in pain. "We are more than up for it, Greg's practically buzzing." He cupped Sherlock's cheek.

Then out of nowhere, the Superintendent reached between Sherlock’s legs without his knowledge and dropped a large weight on the rope.

"Ung!" The detective's eyes shot wide open with shock.

"Good one, Greg."

"I do my best to please." He added two more rather smallish weights for good measure. "That should calm him down a bit."

Greg was right. The detective fell still immediately, any movement likely to have a negative effect with the weights.

"Now my boy!" Greg ran across the room and made a point to sit on an already uncomfortable looking Mycroft.

John joined them, patting Mycroft's arse as he walked by. "How much of this can you take, boy? You're pretty good with that mouth, so I imagine quite a bit." John turned the machine on, making sure Greg saw how he did it, then moved it so it fucked a couple of inches into the government official's mouth on each thrust.

Mycroft tried pulling his head back. John just shook his head in disappointment.

"Try that button there, mate," he pointed at the machine with one hand and used the other to push Mycroft's head forward again.

When Greg pushed the button, the machine increased in speed and plunged into Mycroft's mouth just a bit further. The sub was soon drooling and making heavy huffing sounds around the dildo. The doctor chucked his fellow Dom the crop.

"Why don't you carry on? Get him to multi task?"

"I'd rather get him to multi task if he had something up his arse."

"I'm not using anything from the cupboard like that."

"No. No, me neither. Why don't you pop back to that gorgeous blond at the shop? Get us some more toys."

John laughed. "There's something delightful about using Mycroft's money to buy his own implements of torture." He headed out the door with a bounce in his step.

Greg took the crop towards Sherlock and whacked his cock with it.

Sherlock yelled out, his head banging back into the cross.

He turned and watched Mycroft, the dildo plunging into his mouth by about 3 inches. He took it easily. Too easily.

John came back, whistling tunelessly. "I got one for each of them. I wouldn't want anyone to get jealous." He set the bag down and took out his prizes. He had purchased two vibrating plugs that were guaranteed to reach just the right places.

Sherlock groaned at the sight of it.  
  
Greg was patting his thighs with the crop, occasionally getting close to his cock, but not touching it.

John examined the cross and found a convenient break away section that provided access to his boy's arse. He removed it and set it aside, revealing Sherlock's hole.

He prodded it with the tip of the dildo.

Sherlock's wince was clear, despite him being gagged so successfully.

"Sorry, boy, did that send the ropes swinging?"

The detective growled around his gag, but it didn't do him any good. John kept pushing with the lubed vibrator until it breached him, then he pushed it in steadily.

Sherlock thrashed on the cross, fighting, trying to get away.

John walked around to see his face, there was no fear there, just determined misbehaviour.

He twisted one of Sherlock's nipples hard. "You are incorrigible." He twisted the other one. "I've been neglecting these. Shame on me."

He went straight to the bag and removed something, it was clear what they were, but when John held his hands up Sherlock frowned.

"No, boy, you haven't seen this type before. These have four screws. I put your neglected part in here." He pushed it over Sherlock’s nipple and pinched it, then he began tightening each screw until Sherlock's face contorted in pain. He grinned.

Greg toyed with Mycroft's hole, running his finger around the rim. "This certainly needs to be plugged up. I do believe that's what you were promised." He pressed the tip of the vibrator to Mycroft's hole and pushed.

Mycroft thrashed much like his brother had until Greg pressed his foot against the rope.

"Going somewhere?" He laughed.

John finished applying the other clamp to Sherlock’s nipples while watching the other Dom out of the corner of his eye. He flicked the buds that had been pressed out, held tightly.

He leaned in and ran his tongue over the protrusions, relishing his boy's shudders. "Lovely." He nibbled at them, one after the other, just a bit too hard.

Sherlock's yelp was forced to be cut off as he bit down on the fake dildo.

"You know later, when you're panting and sweaty I'm gonna take you into the main part of the club again."

Sherlock's eyes widened at that. He felt a thrill rush through him at the prospect of being shown off as John's sub. If it weren't for his predicament, his cock would have been bobbing, hard and leaking, at the prospect.

"Shame you're all tied up right now, isn't it?"

Sherlock's head leant back and hit into the cross behind him while John returned his attention to his boy's hole.

He finished seating the vibrator which he had left hanging out and twisted it this way and that, then he flicked it on. His boy hissed in a breath around his gag and squeezed his eyes shut.

John slapped him. "Open! You will not be hiding in your Mind Palace." He glanced over when he heard Mycroft gag.

Greg seemed to have got a hang of the machine, it was now the majority of the dildo going into his mouth and Mycroft was trying to accommodate it as best he could.

The Superintendent played with Mycroft's hair as he watched his boy struggle. Of course, he'd never leave Mycroft like this, just in case something went wrong, but it was fun to watch. Drool ran down the government official's chin in copious amounts and he made positively indecent sounds as his mouth was fucked by the machine. He tried to struggle out of the situation when Greg returned to pushing the plug into his hole. It was clear the greying haired Dom had found his prostate when Mycroft bucked on the bench.

"Careful, pet, don't choke yourself." Greg nudged his prostate again just to hear his boy moan, then he flicked the device on, grinning as Mycroft's hole clenched around it.

Content he couldn't get out of his predicament, Greg stepped back and sat on the bench to watch, his eyes drifting to Sherlock after a moment. He seemed to be as uncomfortable as Mycroft was round about now.

* * *

"Aren't you pretty?" Greg grinned.

John looked back at Mycroft. "They both are. I can't wait to show them off."

Greg barked a laugh. "Not until after we've worked some of the rebelliousness out of them."

"Hmm," John agreed. "Wouldn't want them to show us up. Not on our first time here."

Greg nodded, running his hand up Mycroft's back.

"You know, Greg, that might be why Mycroft suggested this place. To show us up."

"Is that so, boy?" Greg asked, slapping his boy on the arse. "Was this a little planned rebellion? If so, I think you'll find we're more than up to the task of subduing it."

Mycroft tried to shake his head but Greg just laughed and flicked the speed up, first in his arse, then the machine.

He gave it a moment before pausing it, deep down Mycroft's throat.

"I don't like being lied to."

The sub widened his eyes, trying to convey his innocence, but it was to no avail.

"Boy, I suggest you think hard before you keep it up. Was that your plan, to show us up? Blink twice if it was."

Mycroft stopped breathing for a moment. He was well and truly fucked. Physically and metaphorically. Slowly, he blinked the two times Greg had demanded.

Greg bent down and grabbed Mycroft by the hair. "Maybe we should take them home, mate? That's clearly what they don't want. Bring them back another day when we think they deserve it. I'm not having people thinking I'm an unfair Dom. And I'm certainly not letting him show me up."

John whirled and confronted his own sub. "Did you know about this?"

Sherlock's head shook frantically.

"Let me rephrase that. Did you deduce your brother's intent?"

Head sagging, the detective nodded. He knew better than to risk lying at this point.

"I refuse to be manipulated, Greg. I say we stay, but we don't take them out in the public area to play."

Sherlock whined.

"It looks like we’ve been too light with them thinking it would be best after the last time we met up."

"I think we were wrong."

Greg quickly untied Mycroft from the bench and pulled the machine away. Mycroft panted, getting a full breath.

"Get on the floor. On your knees!" Greg barked.

Mycroft scrambled to comply, getting on his knees as fast as he could. He hadn't been given long to recover.

"Not good enough." Greg kicked his sub's feet wider apart. "And get those hands behind your head."

Mycroft's hands were cuffed in front of him, but he was able to lift them over his head and rest his hands at the back of his neck.

John reached up and grabbed Sherlock's throat pushing him back into the cross.

"Greg, untie his feet please."  
Sherlock closed his eyes, seriously worried now. At a slap, they snapped open again.

Keeping their gazes locked, John unfastened the buckles at Sherlock's wrists. "I believe you know what's at stake here, boy. Don't push me."

The detective swallowed hard and husked out a whispered, "Yes, sir."

John grabbed his curls when he was uncuffed from the cross and threw him across the room towards his brother.

"On your knees!"

Sherlock dropped as quickly as Mycroft had moments before only, he didn't wait for the order, he laced his fingers together behind his neck immediately. He had a good idea that the time for pushing the Doms was over. In fact, he wondered why it had seemed like such a good idea to begin with.

He glared at his brother, trying to make his point clear, this was the older Holmes' fault. Sherlock would not be taking the blame for this.

John whacked the back of his head. "Get your eyes down!" John barked.

The detective jerked his eyes forward and down, glaring now at the floor. He didn't realise that he had growled at his brother when he did it. Not until John clocked him on the back of the head again with a warning to be quiet.

Sherlock found it difficult not to vibrate with nerves.

The two Doms were talking about the brother's like they weren't even in the room. The both of them were sounding extremely pissed off.

The next thing Mycroft knew, his chin was being forced up by the riding crop. "I swear, I should put you on orgasm denial for a month. How does that sound?"

"Sir, no, I-" The crop whacked his cheek. He tried ducking his head, but Greg hit him again.

"No! Keep your head up! Don't presume to know what I want."

"Yes, sir." His cheek stung, but not badly. Greg would never risk injuring him.

The Superintendent reached down and turned the vibrator up as far as it would go.

"I'm going to untie you cock and bollocks. If you come... Let's just say it won't be pleasant."

"Yes, sir," he whispered.

Sherlock was remaining completely still.

"Are you wanting to argue with me, like Mycroft is with Greg?" John growled yanking his head back.

"No, sir."

"Good." John reached down and flicked Sherlock's vibrator to high, then he moved around him and tugged on the weights that still dangled from his bound package.

"Needless to say, when I remove all of this, you had best not come either."

Sherlock nodded. "Sir, it wasn't my idea to-"

John had snatched the crop from Greg and whacked Sherlock's arm with it.

"Shut it."

When John removed the weights and freed his cock and balls, it should have been a relief, but Sherlock almost wished the rope was back in place. Now there was nothing but his will power standing between him and an orgasm and the vibrator was pushing him relentlessly closer to the edge.

"Sir, please-"

"Shut it!" John repeated. "Greg, what are we going to do with them?" He felt himself being far angrier than he had meant to be.

"We're going to milk them dry. That's the first thing that comes to mind. I'm not sure I trust myself with impact play at the moment, to be honest. I'll have to punish mine another way."

"A bowl of rice," John laughed.

"I say we milk them dry here, then get them home and punish them properly."

Mycroft was the first to succumb to the continuous prostate stimulation. All at once, he grunted and semen poured from his cock. He panted his way through it, relieved to have controlled himself. He dreaded to think what would have happened if he had had an actual orgasm.

The Superintendent folded his arms across his chest and stared down at him.

"Did I say you could do that?" Greg asked.

"Sir, I-"

"Don't tell me you couldn't help it."

"But, sir! You know how it works as well as I do!"

"That's it. You're wearing a gag back home." Greg got one of the discarded gags and forced it into Mycroft's mouth, buckling it in place.

"But now he can't ask for permission," John pointed out.

"Well he didn't the first time anyway."

Sherlock had remained completely silent up until that point, he looked up slightly.

"Sir, may I?" He asked quietly.

"You may dribble, boy, nothing more."

"Thank you, sir." It was a few more moments before Sherlock's cock produced it's milky substance, but he breathed a sigh of relief at not having messed up like his brother had.

John gave him a fleeting pat on the head and then reached down to wrap his hand around Sherlock's red cock.

The detective yelled, far too sensitive for such ministrations but the buzzing at his prostate hadn't stopped either.

He shook his head desperately. "Please, please, no, sir."

"I don't think you're in a position to make requests, do you, boy?"

Sherlock let his head hang in defeat. "No, sir."

"But then, you were just dragged along for the ride, you didn't do anything specifically to get the reaction Mycroft wanted. That doesn't mean you're not in trouble for not speaking up, but he is the real ringleader here."

John reached over and wrapped his hand around Mycroft's cock instead.

The government official closed his eyes as he sobbed around his gag. He was so sensitive, he didn't want to be touched, but he felt himself getting hard again nonetheless.

"Give it a squeeze," Greg ordered from where he stood.

Mycroft's head snapped up to stare at his Dom, it soon changed into a pleading look.

There were even tears in his eyes, but he neither blinked nor snapped a safe signal, so both Doms ignored them.

Sherlock tried to make himself as small as he could, hoping to be ignored, but it didn't work. Greg grabbed him by the curls and pulled him back up straight. He made a point of staring into his eyes.

"Are you going to tell me neither of you deserve this?"

"No, sir," he managed to choke out. "I'm sorry, sir."

Greg made a disgusted sound, but let his hair go. He walked over and started packing the things they had bought.

Sherlock let his head drop, his cock already filling out again and looking a painfully red.

Beside him, his brother whimpered through his second non-orgasm, John still holding and tugging at his cock.

The doctor regarded his boy. "You look like you could use a hand." He moved around between the subs and started pumping Sherlock's cock as well.

"Sir-"

"No!"

The detective bit his lip, trying to keep quiet as John pumped his oversensitive cock. At least he had gotten more of a gap than Mycroft had had. Even so, he couldn't help trying to squirm away from his Dom's touch.

"Oi!" John barked, getting Greg's attention.

The Superintendent turned around and saw how Sherlock's hips were shifting and went to steady them.

"Sir, I'm sorry, I'm really sorry but it-"

John slapped him with his free hand.

"Be quiet, Sherlock. I do not want another word out of you without express permission from me or Greg."

The detective nodded, not daring even a 'yes, sir'. He sucked in his bottom lip and bit it as he bowed his head and watched John pump his aching cock.

He pinched the head a few times and watched as Sherlock stopped himself from crying out.

"Not nice being manipulated is it, you little brat?"


	5. Embarrassment

The sub shook his head from side to side, biting his lip even harder. All of a sudden, the vibrator was shifted inside him as Greg grasped it and gave it a shove. It pressed against his prostate harder than it had before and made him cry out at the sensation.

John glared at him and squeezed his cock a little tighter.

Sherlock was crying by now, tears dripping down his face.

John walked around them and stopped in front of Mycroft. He pulled the gag free. "Something to add?" He snapped.

"Yes, sir," he tried to hide his face in his arm. "This wasn't Sherlock's fault, sir. It was mine. He wasn't part of it."

"But he knew and didn't say anything. That's what we call being an accomplice," Greg pointed out from behind the two subs.

The younger Holmes shuddered, near coming again. He had been told to be silent, but he had to ask for permission before he came, didn't he?

"Sirs, please, may I come?"

John returned his attention to Sherlock.

"No. You may do what you did last time. Nothing more."

John reached around his kneeling boy and poked at the vibrator.

Sherlock groaned. He should have known. In fact, he had. He hadn't meant to ask for the release of an orgasm. After a couple of minutes more, his cock dribbled out more white fluid. He didn't even fight the tears that ran down his cheeks. And John didn't let go of his cock.

Sherlock let his head fall forward, he couldn't fight the Dom anymore, he didn't even try.

John seemed to notice because he finally let go, but he didn't remove the vibrator.

That left the detective feeling very sorry for himself. He sniffled and ducked his head. He just wanted this to be over, even if it meant getting his cock locked away for a month, which seemed likely at the moment. He'd gladly accept it if he could have John stop being angry with him.

John thudded the vibrator in Sherlock's hole with his toe. "He can go through that once more. Then he should be dry," John offered in Greg's direction. "Then we can get the pair of them home and punish them properly."

One more time. Just one more time. Sherlock held onto that thought tightly as much as he dreaded the idea of going through it again. He could handle just one more time.

Next to him Mycroft groaned as his cock twitched and began to dribble.

Sherlock managed to block everything else out except John who was now knelt behind him. He was pulling and twiddling the vibrator, making it prod at his overstimulated prostate.

If he could have, he would have fled to his Mind Palace with John. He would have snuggled with him in front of the fire in Baker Street and pretended that everything being done was all in fun.

"Don't think you only get one more," Greg warned his own sub. "Two more. At least. I may or may not make you continue when we get home."

Mycroft bit his lip, and his arms sagged around his head. "Sir, I'm sorry,” it was muffled but obvious. 

"Shut up. You weren't sorry when you were trying to make me and John look like idiots." He grabbed the vibrator and pushed it into Mycroft's hole, pressing it against his sweat spot. 

The government official saw bright spots in front of his eyes and his muscles began to tremble. He had seriously miscalculated. He thought the two Doms had backed off on purpose. Thought they had gotten bored with the stricter way things had been, but it had been a test. A test he and his little brother had failed. Drastically.

After what seemed an eternity later, both Holmeses had been milked dry several times. The Doms flicked off and removed the vibrators, then hauled their boys to their feet. Both were sagging, energy clearly depleted.

"Tell you what," Greg folded his arms in front of the two subs. "They wanted to humiliate us. Why don't we humiliate them?"

"How?"

"This place has got to be cleaned before the next people can use it. I say we make these two kneel, cuffed and caged while the staff tidy up."

"Excellent idea." John stretched. "And I need a drink. How about you?"

"God, that sounds wonderful," the Superintendent agreed. "I'll start on these two if you'll get us some beers."

"And request some staff too, while you're there."

John nodded and closed the door behind him.

"I want you two against that wall right now."

They both obeyed, as sluggish as they were. He cuffed them quickly, their hands now held behind them.

Once he was satisfied the pair wouldn't and couldn't run, he pulled out the two cages they'd bought earlier that evening.

Sherlock hissed as his over sensitive cock was manhandled into the cage, but he told himself the physical part of his punishment was almost over. He just had to get through the next little bit and maybe, just maybe, things would be okay between him and John again.  
At least, that had been what he had hoped.

When John returned, two pints in his hands, he was escorted by two women. Clearly dominants, they spotted the two Holmeses in the corner and grinned.

"You've got two bad boys on your hands, I see," the older of the two women noted.

"Oh, very bad," the younger agreed.

Sherlock felt the blush rising up his cheeks and the guilt began to worsen where it had gathered in his stomach. He wanted to open his mouth, apologise, but the look on their faces suggested it would not be welcome.

Beside him, Mycroft sniffed.

As the women cleaned, the younger one kept glancing at the two subs. She put her hands on her hips and turned to John. "They look completely guilty. You're not through punishing them yet, are you?"

The doctor laughed. "Not a chance. This was a celebration. They ruined it. Or rather that one did," he pointed to Mycroft, "he's just along for the ride I'm sad to say."

"Looks like there's a lot of trust there anyway."

John's expression softened just a bit. "Yeah, there is." He cleared his throat. "But that doesn't mean we're going easy on them. Does it, Greg?"

"Nope." Greg drained his beer and set the empty glass aside.

The Superintendent moved to pack away the rest of the things they had bought and let the two members of staff begin to clear up the rest of the equipment.

John stepped in front of Mycroft and tilted his head back.

"Tired, boy? No, don't answer that. It doesn't really matter." The Dom shook his head. "I hate that we have to let you have your clothes for the drive home. You certainly don't deserve them."

"They're not having their clothes," Greg said from across the room. "They can have their coats and I'll bring the car to the door."

"Good luck boys," the older of the women said as they left the room. "It sounds like you're going to need it."

"We're going to need it more than them," Greg growled, but he lessened his words with a smile. "Thanks, by the way."

John waited until the women had left before turning on the brothers. "On your feet both of you. You'll be naked until we reach the club door."

The doctor took Sherlock's arm and the Superintendent took Mycroft's. Together, they marched the Holmeses through the club. Both of the subs kept their heads bowed and didn't say a word the entire way.

There were a few catcalls and a few whistles as they were dragged through the club. The walk of shame… the blush that crept up Sherlock’s neck was rather sweet. 

When they reached the door, Greg ran off to get the car and John rested first Sherlock's coat on his shoulders and then Mycroft's. By the time the other Dom got back, he had their coats buttoned up snuggly around them.

"Don't you boys look warm," Greg teased as he opened the car doors for them.

They didn't get a chance to climb in themselves. As soon as the back door was open, John shoved Sherlock in first and Mycroft shortly followed. They both fell on the back seat.

"You can both get down on the floor. Bad boys don't get to sit on the seats." John closed the door and climbed into the front passenger seat by Greg.

Both Holmeses obeyed immediately, neither of them saying anything when John leant between the seats and removed their coats.

Mycroft fell against the door and looked out the window, feeling incredibly stupid.

The further they travelled, the more Sherlock felt sorry for himself. He practically wilted, slumping against the back seat and letting his head fall against the cushion.

John glanced into the back and was glad to see both of the brothers seeming rather sorry for themselves.

They both remained still when Greg pulled the car up, but they did straighten, so neither was resting against anything.

They were parked where no one could see them, so Greg pulled his sub out of the car fully naked. John did the same with his. They marched them into the mansion, not giving them time to get truly chilled.

When the front door was shut and locked, they were both shoved to their knees beside one another. But they didn't look up, the floor was far more interesting apparently.

"Now what?" Greg asked of the doctor.

"Now I'm feeding mine and he can eat everything I decide to give him without argument. I'm not in the mood for it." John stalked off to the kitchen, calling back, "Want something for yours?"

"Yeah. I'll bring them through."

He reached down and grabbed them both by the hair, he picked them up and shoved them in the direction of the dining room.

"Get in there and kneel. Not a word from either of you."

Sherlock didn't want to eat. He knew the food would sit like lead in his stomach. It always did after he had disappointed John. He stole a look at his brother. Mycroft looked to be in about the same shape.

Greg stood by the door watching them. After a moment he nodded to himself and walked through to the kitchen and John.

"Well those two are looking sorry for themselves."

"Good. I was thinking me and mine might stay the night, if that's alright. I think I'll make him sleep on the floor. He can have some blankets to cuddle with for a change."

Greg nodded. "Sure, mate. Stay as long as you want. I think I would prefer you here to help me. I get a bit… weak or maybe paranoid alone. And maybe those two should sleep together instead of alone. I think I'd trust them more together."

"You know..." John turned around with a grin. "I get cold at night." He fixed his gaze on his boy. "Maybe you could keep me warm since you'll be all alone as well."

Greg nodded. "That's plan C of our evening. Food is plan A. But what's plan B? We promised them this wasn't over when we were at the club."


	6. Better in the Morning

"I was only half kidding about that bowl of rice, only I'd make them kneel on it." John finished slicing up the fruit and cheese he had been working on and handed Greg a plate.

"It should be something irritating beyond measure. What if we cuffed them, mixed bags of 3 or 4 different types of rice together in a pile and made them separate it all into separate piles? It would bore me shitless so god knows what it will do to a couple of Holmeses."

John threw back his head and laughed. He couldn't help it. "You really are devious." He sat down in a chair and beckoned to Sherlock. "Come on, boy. Get over here."

Sherlock shuffled as quickly as he could manage, with his hands still cuffed behind him.

John held a lump of cheese at his mouth immediately and glared at the kneeling man until he reluctantly opened his mouth to accept it.

Without realising he was doing it, Sherlock started tapping his toes against the floor. John grasped him by the chin. "Stop that," he warned the sub.

Greg was feeding his own sub who was very subdued. In fact, Mycroft could barely meet his eyes as he accepted each morsel of food from his Dom's hand.

"If you don't stop that foot tapping, Sherlock I will tie your feet together as well. And with what we have planned you will not want to make things more difficult for yourself."

Sherlock bowed his head and forced his foot to be still. Bloody foot. Bloody nerves. Bloody Mycroft getting him in trouble. He almost turned and stuck his tongue out at him, but thankfully John stuck a bit of pear in his mouth at just that moment. He bowed to the inevitable and ate everything John put in his direction. After the first mouthful, he didn't try and argue or avoid it.

John glanced over at Greg, his plate was nearly clear too. He held a glass of water to his sub's lips. When Sherlock had drained it, the Dom set it aside, then turned and looked at his boy long and hard. He took him by the chin and stared him in the eyes. "Wait in the corner until Greg is done with Mycroft for the rest of your punishment."

"Yes, sir," he whispered.

John uncuffed him and did them up in front rather than behind.

Sherlock wedged himself into the corner, grateful to be able to hide his face for a moment. He was so tired and wrung out and wanted John's arms around him, but he knew that wasn't likely. He tilted his head forward and let it rest against the wall, knowing it was a risk.

It was a further 10 minutes before Sherlock was called back out of the corner and told to crawl through to the front room. When he got there, Mycroft joined him.

Shortly thereafter, Greg appeared with a bowl in his hand. Neither sub could see its contents, but they both got a sinking feeling at the sight of it. It didn't help that the bowl wasn't of a normal size. It was a mixing bowl. The four bowls that John held were breakfast bowls. Greg poured the contents of his over the floor in front of them. And John lined his up.

"Go ahead, boy," the doctor directed to Sherlock, "deduce your task."

"We have to sort the rice, sir," the detective said immediately. He could already feel himself growing bored with the task and they hadn't even started.

"Exactly."

John collapsed back into the sofa and flicked the TV on. "Greg, any chance of another couple of beers."

The Superintendent watched the two men on the floor for a moment before nodding. "Sure. I restocked the fridge last week."

John finally found an old Bond film for them to watch. He figured that was a good choice because it would have the added benefit of annoying the Holmeses.

Greg came back and sat down nearby, handing him a beer. "Just what the doctor ordered."

"I didn't order two brats on a night like this."

Greg sighed. "I know. But hey, I basically rule the world now."

That made the blond laugh.

Some time later, both subs were getting tired. Sherlock had a handful of rice he had picked out from the rest and he was moving to drop it into a bowl, but he knocked it over. When that happened, he simply lay down on the floor, giving up.

"Oi! John yelled. "Get up. Now!"

Letting out a deep breath, Sherlock pushed himself back to his knees, his head low.

John got to his feet and stormed across the room. He grabbed Sherlock by the curls and pulled his head back.

"Bed time for you. You can finish that lot in the morning."

"Thank you, sir," Sherlock whispered, embarrassed by his own behaviour. He started crawling towards the bedrooms, trying to keep up with his Dom who still held him by the curls.

The two Doms had set up a quilt on the floor of one of the main bedrooms, a few sheets laying on top.

John shoved him down so he fell onto it. "Get under," he ordered.

While Sherlock obeyed, looking like he might cry at any moment, the door opened again and Mycroft was dragged in.

The government official was shoved down next to his brother and ordered beneath the sheets as well.

"There will be no talking betwixt the two of you, not before morning. Is that clear?" Greg snapped.

"Yes, sir," the brothers replied together.

With that, John and Greg went back downstairs, to try and enjoy what was left of their evening.

It wasn't until many hours later the two Doms made their way back upstairs, to bed. They had had a bit to drink, celebrating Greg's promotion without the bother of worrying what their brats were up to. The pair of them climbed into the double bed, pulling the covers over themselves.

Mycroft managed to drift off to sleep, but Sherlock lay there awake, listening to the two Doms' breathing as they slept. He hoped they were in a better mood in the morning. Not that the pair of them didn't deserve it if they weren't. Well… Mycroft deserved it, but he hated seeing him upset. He would rather the both of them were in trouble together.

He shuffled closer to his brother. He couldn't wrap his arms around him, but he could wrap a leg around him. He snuggled in as close to him as he could, resting his head on his brother's shoulder. Somehow, he drifted to sleep. He hoped it was his brother's closeness that had done that.

* * *

Sherlock blinked up at the window as the curtains were tugged open. He'd curled into Mycroft even more in the night and the elder Holmes was smiling at him.

He raised his cuffed hands and brought a finger to his lips to remind Sherlock not to say anything. The detective nodded his understanding and leaned forward to kiss his brother on the cheek, then he buried his head into his chest again.

Mycroft let out a breath of relief. The two Doms had gone now, probably downstairs to make coffee. He would not mess up himself and he certainly wouldn't let Sherlock mess up.

They lay like that for a while, enjoying the peace before the probable storm. When they heard footsteps in the hall, they separated and lay quietly side by side.

Sherlock seriously contemplated pretending to be asleep, but decided against it.

Soon enough, the covers were pulled off them and the pair were hauled to their knees by their cuffed hands.

Greg tilted his head to the side. "Good boys. You both have permission to wish us good morning."

Sherlock looked up at John hopefully. "Good morning, sir, sirs."

Mycroft echoed the sentiment, immediately.

John sat back on the bed and pointed at the floor just in front of him.

Sherlock immediately shuffled forward to kneel where the doctor was pointing. He was much surprised to have a cup of tea held to his lips rather than another glass of water.

"Thank you, sir," he whispered then his eyes widened. "I'm sorry, sir."

"Shh. It's fine. You may speak freely."

"Thank you, sir," Sherlock repeated.

"But watch yourself, I don't want you getting yourself into more trouble."

The sub shook his head, sending his curls bouncing. "No, sir! Me neither."

John couldn't help but chuckle at his boy's dishevelled look. "You're a mess this morning, pet." He ruffled Sherlock's curls with his free hand.

Sherlock bowed his head immediately.

John put the cup back on the tray the Doms had brought up and cupped both his boy's cheeks in his hands. He tilted his face up so he could look in Sherlock's eyes. "I'm feeling better this morning, babe. I think falling over with exhaustion proves you've been punished enough." He kissed him on the lips. "But don't think you can fake it in the future."

Sherlock glanced across at Mycroft to see his brother was getting similar treatment from the Superintendent. Mycroft was sipping his own tea.

Then his brain caught up with what John had said. "Fake it, sir? Fake what?"

"Right. Forget I said anything." John set the tea aside and unlocked Sherlock's cuffs. He brought each of his wrists up and examined them. They were pink, but that was it. John kissed the inside of each wrist, then let them go. "Good boy for not fighting them. You could have really hurt yourself."

"I know you don't like it when I do that, sir… so I didn't do it."

John chuckled lightly. "Just so you don't get the wrong idea, you do understand that I can go back in punishment mode at a moment's notice?"

"Yes, sir," Sherlock said quietly. He definitely didn't want that to happen, not this morning.

"Good, then come up here on my lap. I need a hug."

Sherlock sighed in relief and wrapped his arms around his Dom as tightly as he could as soon as he could.

Mycroft look over and smiled, glad his brother had gotten what he had so clearly been craving. Greg distracted him by cupping his cheek and pulling him up on his own lap.

It was a decidedly good distraction. Mycroft let out a happy relieved sigh at getting his own hug. "I'm really very sorry, sir. I really, really am. I shouldn't have pushed."

"No," Greg agreed. "You shouldn't have. Before you do things like that you should think about what John and I want, what we deserve. You specifically asked me to remain as the sub last night, so don't try telling me it wasn't planned."

"No, sir."

Greg kissed him again. "Good."

"Showers first, then we can enjoy the day," John announced, urging Sherlock to his feet. "In case you haven't noticed, you boys stink."

"Hardly our fault, sir," Sherlock pointed out.

John smacked his arse. "Watch your tone."

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

"Oh and don't think that cage is coming off. I meant what I said last night."

Sherlock blinked. He honestly didn't remember what John had said. He bit his lip and looked down at his caged cock. Whatever it had been, it couldn't be good. "Yes, sir." Maybe Mycroft would remember.

Greg shoved Mycroft after the detective.


	7. Chapter 7

"A month, boys, at least," the Superintendent called after them.

The resultant groan from both brothers was rather satisfying.

Just as Sherlock peeled off to the first bathroom, he stopped and glared at his brother. "Brilliant idea, showing up our Doms."

Mycroft sighed. "I know. I'm sorry, Lock."

The detective blinked, caught by surprise at the apology.

"It hadn't meant to go that way…" Mycroft trailed off.

"How was it supposed to go? Hmm? Supposed to wind them up and run in circles? They aren't gold fish!"

Greg appeared in the hallway. "Oi, you two, what's going on?"

"Nothing!" the brothers said in unison.

"Mm." Greg took Mycroft by the arm. "I think I'll bathe you myself. Maybe that'll keep you out of trouble."

"Sir, there's no need."

"Move," Greg ordered.

John followed out, having left the Superintendent to deal with the boys. “I think I'll deal with you, too."

Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't care that being watched over by John wasn't meant as a reward, he simply was glad for the time together. He was even more grateful when his Dom grasped him by the scruff of the neck to steer him into the bathroom.

An hour later, two freshly washed boys appeared, followed by two Doms. They were ushered towards the stairs. When they reached the front room, they were confronted by the scattered rice and the bowls. Sherlock's shoulders slumped and he immediately fell to his knees, intent on getting the task over with as soon as possible.

John ruffled his curls, glad to see his boy wasn't going to argue further.

The thud of Mycroft dropping to the floor just behind them suggested he wasn't going to argue either.

The doctor started to go make breakfast, but Greg stopped him by placing a hand on his arm. "I'll do it," he offered. "You watch those two."

John smiled his thanks and took a seat on the sofa.

At least this time around Sherlock wasn't terrified of looking up, he kept glancing over at John, hoping to see some level of pride in him, but he didn't expect it. It was only a few bowls of rice not a solved murder.

The fifth time he looked up, he caught his Dom smiling at him in approval. He smiled back tentatively and went back to work. That little smile on John's part had staved off the boredom... for now.  
Mycroft, however, was growing angrier and angrier.

"Hey!" Sherlock whispered. "What is it with you?"

"This is pointless!" Mycroft hissed.

The detective laughed softly. "Brother dear, I believe that is the point."

John sat up straight. "Is there a problem, boys?"

"Yes, there's a problem!" Mycroft shoved over the bowl he was closest to. Sherlock saw it coming and pulled the others out the way, he wasn't about to lose all that hard work.

"Greg!" The doctor yelled out to the kitchen while he paced towards Mycroft.

The Superintendent charged back in to find Mycroft's arm twisted up his back by John. "What's he done?" Greg demanded.

"He upended that bowl of rice. He's got quite the attitude all of a sudden."

Sherlock had shifted to his knees, where he had been sat on his bum before. At least this time they weren't cuffed. Why couldn't Mycroft just get on with it when he was? After all, he always got bored far more quickly.

Greg sighed and grumbled something inaudible, then; "What the hell, Mycroft?"

John relinquished his hold on the government official and let Greg take over. He walked over to Sherlock and took his hand, helping him to his feet. "I think you've done enough. I think Mycroft can handle the rest unless Greg has something worse in mind for him."

Sherlock hugged his Dom spontaneously. "Thank you, sir.”

John smiled. "I wouldn't be so happy, pet."

Sherlock let his Dom go. "Sir?"

"Well I'm going to be sat over there, all lonely while Greg deals with your brother. I'm going to need some company."

"Yes, sir." He didn't know what John had in mind and he suddenly felt nervous.

John pulled his boy along by the wrist. As he sat down, he pulled him over his lap so he ended up arse up in the air. "Comfy, Sherlock?"

The detective shifted. "But I've been good, sir," the sudden turn in events had confused him.

John sighed and spun him over. "It's alright, babe, it's fine, we can just cuddle if you like?"

"I... Please?"

"Alright, pet." John held him close, pulling his head down and tucking it under his chin. "How's that?"

"Perfect, sir." Sherlock smiled and watched as Greg dealt with Mycroft.

Mycroft had been cuffed again and was forced over the table in the corner.

"Stay there!" Greg snapped. He turned around to face the others. "Sherlock, did he say anything to suggest what this was about?"

"No, sir." He looked away. "Not really."

John turned his boy's head gently so he had to meet his eyes. "Pet? Did he say anything at all?"

"Just that separating the rice was pointless, sir."

Greg grabbed Mycroft by the scruff of the neck and pulled him upright. "Nothing is pointless if it is what I want."

Mycroft averted his eyes, not looking in his Dom's direction.

"Do you not agree?"

The government official remained stubbornly quiet.

"I don't believe you." Greg shoved Mycroft to the floor, then stalked across the room, hands on his hips. "I'm counting to ten. If you haven't started sorting the rice with a pleasant attitude, I'm going for a walk. You won't like what happens when I get back."

Greg got as far as 8 before Mycroft did anything. He got to his feet and glared at his boyfriend. "How the bloody hell do you expect me sort that lot out alone and cuffed the way I am?!"

Turning around slowly, Greg took a deep, steadying breath. He walked over to Mycroft, grabbed him by the arm and marched him to the free corner where he shoved him down on his knees.

"John, if he even thinks about getting up, tie him to the cross in the playroom. I'm going for a walk. I don't know when I'll be back."

John nodded, hugging Sherlock close. The doctor knew Greg had to be upset. The Superintendent wasn't one for taking walks, John did that.

Sherlock tried to bury his head in John's lap. Tried to hide from the tension in the room. John clearly noticed because he let him and just ran his hand through his boy's hair. "It's alright, babe."

"I don't like it when Mycie gets in trouble," Sherlock said, sounding incredibly small.

John started rocking him. He decided his boy must be feeling fragile after the rough handling of last night. The question was… why wasn't Mycroft?

The government official stayed in the corner where Greg had dumped him and John watched the back of his head for a while. He decided it didn't matter. Mycroft could make himself miserable if he wanted to.

John brought his hand up and cupped the back of Sherlock's head. He brought their lips together and kissed him gently.  
Sherlock melted into it and wrapped his arms around John's neck. Then he snuggled down into the crook of John's shoulder. He didn't even feel a bit bad for his brother, Mycroft had brought it on himself. "Sir?"

"Yes, pet."

"Molly texted me yesterday. I didn't mention it because we were so busy with the case and Greg, but she has a spleen she saved for me." Sherlock looked at John, hopeful. "Do you think we can pick it up today?"

John smiled at his boy as he heard Mycroft growl and snarl in the corner.

"Yes, babe. It'll have to be a bit later though, yeah? I don't want to abandon Greg."

"Yes, sir."

With that, John got to his feet. "Be back in a minute, pet." He walked straight across to Mycroft and pulled him to his feet. He spun him around and slapped him. "Now that I have your attention... What the fuck is this about, Mycroft? Are you jealous of Greg? Is that it? He gets two promotions and suddenly you can't handle it? He's hardly a threat to you, Mr. British Government."

Mycroft looked horrified. "John, no! I'm not jealous!"

"Shut it! Because it sure as hell looks that way to me. You're ruining this for him." He began to drag the older man from the room. Greg had told him to tie him to the cross, so that's exactly what he would do.

"No, John, please. At least let me explain!"

"I don't think you can." John dragged him straight to the cross. "Stand there." He removed one set of cuffs and grabbed the second set. Ignoring the sub's protests, he started buckling them around his wrists, then he lifted his hands up and attached them to the cross. He did the same as his feet. When he left the playroom he yelled out for Greg.

"Yeah?" The older Dom was upstairs.

"Yours is in the play room."

Greg walked to the top of the stairs, his hands on his hips again. "He couldn't behave himself for 15 minutes. Well he can bloody well wait where he is until I'm in a mood to deal with him."

John smiled sadly. "Sorry, mate. He wasn't provoked though, we were just talking and he took offence. I swear."

"I believe you. Is the camera on?"

At John's nod Greg spun on his toe. "You might as well eat," he called out behind him.

Five minutes later, while John was feeding Sherlock, they heard Mycroft's voice.

"Gregory, sir. Please! I'm sorry. And I'm so proud of you! Let me show you how proud I am. Please!"

"Save it, Mycroft."

"Wait there," John ordered with a warning glare.

"Yes, sir."

John found Greg pressing a gag into his mouth and locking it to the cross. Then he pulled a leather hood over his head and tightened the strings.

"He's really pushing it," John observed. "And I for one don't get it." He shook his head and sighed. "You're a switch and I've seen you get in these moods. Why do you do it?"

Greg crossed his arms and looked at his boy. "I can't explain it and I certainly can't guess what's got into Mycroft, but it's damn infuriating from this side of things."

"Yes. Like that time neither of you two fancied Domming."

Greg smiled. "I just wish he didn't choose a time for celebration to be a brat."

Mycroft responded to the discussion by shaking his head side to side and pulling on his cuffs. He grunted something incomprehensible around the gag in protest.

The Superintendent rolled his eyes. "I'm hungry. So I'm guessing he is. But that can wait. I might be in a better mood after food."

"Come and join me and Sherlock, I was feeding him. And he made a request for us to stop by Barts later. Molly has something for him. When I checked, she wanted to see you too. It may be a congratulations!"

"Do you think she already knows?" Greg asked.

"Of course she does. Sally knows, that means everyone in London knows."

Greg laughed. "She is a bit of a gossip."

"Yeah. Plus, I told her on the phone. I needed to corroborate what Sherlock was after."

Greg laughed. "Alright, mate. I'll grab some lunch with you guys, deal with him and then tag along."


	8. Chapter 8

Sherlock looked up from where he waited, biting his lip. He relaxed when he saw the Doms smiling. His brother hadn't put them in completely horrible moods, then.

"On the floor, pet."

Sherlock dropped to his knees immediately.

"You're not in any trouble. You didn't even leave the room. Just like I asked."

Sherlock grinned and bumped his head against John's hand like a cat. The Dom responded by scratching behind his ear, then petting his curls. "Shall I feed you again, pet? Or do you want to feed yourself?"

"I want you, sir."

John laughed. "That didn't answer my question."

"You. Feed me, sir."

"Alright, babe."

Greg sipped on coffee and nibbled at his toast as he watched John feed Sherlock. It was odd having his young friend be the well behaved one and Mycroft the brat.

"I heard Molly has something for you."

Sherlock's face broke out in a grin. "Yes, sir. I'm going to chop it up and put it all over the place for John to find!"

John hit him on the back of the head. "Oi! You will not."

"No, sir. I was kidding. I have an experiment planned." He was bouncing where he knelt, his excitement overflowing.

John was glad to see him happy as he kept pushing food into his mouth until he couldn't get any more in.

Both Doms laughed as Sherlock spent ages chewing and swallowing. At least it had shut him up.

Greg finished his coffee. He stood and stretched. "I suppose I need to decide what to do about Mycroft. I need to shock him out of this state somehow."

"Surely leaving him alone is the best way of doing that?" John offered.

"He's right, sir," Sherlock added. "I hate being left alone. Makes me feel guilty, sir. Makes me want to fix things however I can."

Greg frowned and looked in the direction of the playroom. "You think so?"

The detective crawled over to him. "I do, sir. He's my brother. I know how he thinks. Well, I know how he thinks about this."

Greg stepped back as Sherlock nuzzled into his leg. "God, you are in a playful mood." He glanced over at John. "What did you put in his food?"

"Catnip," John said with a straight face.

"I'm not a cat, sir."

Sherlock's bottom lip popped out. Greg pressed his finger to it. "I don't know, boy. Sometimes you act like it. I swear, I've even heard you purr for John."

"I've done a lot of things for John."

The Superintendent tipped his head on one side. Then he sat back down. He pulled his cock free from his trousers.

"Then make yourself busy. Hope you don't mind, John?"

"Not at all. You deserve it."

Sherlock scooted in close to Greg, then he bent his head down over his cock. He nuzzled at it, licked it, then took it into his mouth. He was pleased when the Superintendent's cock started filling out and getting hard.

"I'll text Molly," John said ruffling Sherlock's curls where his head was buried in the Super's lap. "See what time she wants us around."

"I'd better poke my head into the office today. I can't get promoted and then run away."

Sherlock redoubled his efforts. He obviously wasn't doing an adequate job if the Dom was still capable of normal conversation. He pulled back and licked Greg's balls and along his shaft, then he swallowed him down to the hilt.

Greg bucked up into him. "Now you're… you're just showing off," he panted.

Sherlock's subsequent laugh sent vibrations down the Dom's length.

"Of course you're showing off," Greg panted, "you're Sherlock bloody Holmes." He grabbed the detective's curls and held on for dear life as he struggled not to come instantly.

Sherlock must have realised what the Dom was after as he nibbled at his cock. One deep breath around Greg had the man coming down his throat instantly. Sherlock swallowed everything as Greg panted. Then he licked him clean as he sat back on his heels. "I win that round, sir."

Greg laughed, throwing his head back. "Cheeky bastard." He felt too good, suddenly, to berate him for his little show. "Go ask if John wants you to get dressed."

"John…" Sherlock moaned. He curled up in a ball at the doctor's feet and wrapped his hands around his foot.

"You are clingy today. Yes. You may go and get dressed."

"Don't wanna," Sherlock rested his head on John's foot.

"Molly won't be impressed if you show up in the nude."

Sherlock cracked open one eye and grinned. "Yes, she would. She'd be delighted."

"And you're gay. Now go and find some clothes." He nudged his bare arse with his foot. "Chop, chop, pet. I'm going to give Greg a hand."

Sherlock crawled lazily to the bedroom they used when they stayed over and found his spare clothes. He got dressed without standing up, he wasn't quite sure why.

He had to stand up when he had his trousers on. He didn't want scuff marks on them. Molly would see and know exactly what had happened. And if Donovan saw, she would know too. And then she'd be able to throw his comments back at him. Well, one couldn't have everything. He sighed and went in search of John.

Greg stood in front of Mycroft, debating if it was safe to take the hood off yet. Really, he had to. It was getting late and he needed to get to the Yard. He braced himself and took it off.

Mycroft averted his eyes immediately and silently worked his jaw when the Dom pulled the gag free.

"Good." He reached down to unbuckle his feet. Then did the same with his wrists. "Go to the study. I assume you have work you could be getting on with from home?"

"Yes, sir," he croaked out quietly.

"Well you can get on and do that for the rest of the day. Do not leave the house. Your lunch is on the kitchen table and I need to get to the Yard, I have things to do." With that, Greg turned on his heel and walked from the room to find John and Sherlock.

Mycroft stared at his feet for a bit. He felt enormously guilty. There had to be something he could do to set things right. Sighing, he ventured from the play room.

10 minutes later, Greg poked his head into the kitchen. "We're going out. Call me if you need me, but otherwise do not leave."

"Yes, sir," Mycroft replied, not looking up from his plate, but thought better of it. "Sir?"

"Yes, boy?"

"May I get dressed today?"

Greg had paused at the door. He thought of saying no, but if his boy was going to be working…

"Shirt and trousers. No tie, no waistcoat, no jacket and no pants."

"Yes, sir." The government official heaved a heavy sigh. He hadn't got a goodbye kiss from Greg, but he supposed he didn't deserve it. He ran his hand over his face in an attempt to clear his head. He downed the rest of his coffee and got up to find a shirt and a pair of trousers. There was no way he could sneak out, even if he wanted to. The manor had security cameras all over, Greg would check and if they were tampered with it would be obvious. He had to work from home.

Across London Greg was glad the trip to Barts hadn't taken very long. Sherlock happily held his spleen in a box. John had a happy sub and he had the Yard to get to.

He walked along, whistling to himself. He thought about calling and checking on Mycroft, but decided against it. He knew his boyfriend was probably very busy.

As he walked into the Yard and up the stairs, he saw a massive group gathered in the briefing room. What was going on? A murder? Sherlock would enjoy that… although the shouldn't really use the younger man anymore. But if he helped keep crime figures low… what the hell? Except when he pushed open the door everyone turned and cheered, and there at the back was Sherlock and John, the bastards!

Laughing, Greg turned and shook hands as they were offered to him. Sally hugged him, at which he saw Sherlock make a face. There was even a large cake that read 'Congratulations Superintendent' in bright blue lettering.

"Proper boss now," Greg laughed in the Sergeant's ear.

He wandered through the crowd until he reached Sherlock. John had disappeared. "Shame your brother isn't here for this."

Sherlock leant over so he was as close as he could get. "Turn around. Sir," he purred the last.

Looking over his shoulder he saw his boyfriend looking rather sheepish beside John.

The Superintendent decided he couldn't be angry with his boy for coming to the celebration, however... He hugged Mycroft and whispered into his ear, "I thought I said no suit?"

Worriedly Mycroft glanced at John. The doctor inclined his head slightly. "It was John's idea, sir, honest," he murmured. "He said it wouldn't be the same here without me."

"Alright, then." Greg let him go, his eyes warm as he looked at his boyfriend. He really was glad he was here. It wouldn't have been right to celebrate without him. He took his hand and dragged him across the room. "Who's for cake?" He yelled out over the bubbling noise of the room.

The crowd finally cleared out, leaving just Greg, Mycroft, Sherlock and John alone with the remainder of the cake. The Superintendent beckoned his boy near and, after being sure no one was watching through the windows, tugged him close. He wrapped his arms around him. "I'm glad you came, despite my orders."

"I said it was alright," John appeared. "It was Sherlock's idea… the surprise, but it wouldn't have been right, and maybe a tad suspicious if he wasn't here."

Greg nodded. "Yes, well… I still have work to do. As dull as that may be." He kissed Mycroft, then let him go reluctantly. "So, off with you, pet."

"At least I got a kiss this time," the government official muttered.

"And whose fault was is you didn't get one this morning?"

Mycroft sighed. "Mine, sir."

"Quite right. Now go. And if John gets anymore bright ideas, ignore him."

"Hey!" The doctor called over. "It was Sherlock's."

The detective glared. "You're just being pedantic."

"Would the two of you care for a ride back to Baker Street?" Mycroft asked. He hoped they would decline as he had some thinking to do and he felt he would be able to do it better alone.

Greg interrupted. "They will have to drive. You're not. I don't know where you'll end up. And I need John tonight, so unless the pair of you have anything pressing at Baker Street?"

John shook his head. "No. Sherlock's happy, he's got his spleen and the lab at the manor."

"Brilliant. Then could you take my sub home? And make sure he removes most of his suit."

Bollocks! Mycroft had planned to stop by the club. Just for a bit. Just until he had got a few things out of the way.

"I hope you weren't planning on disobeying me," Greg growled when he saw the look on Mycroft's face.

"No, sir," he lied. Mycroft caught the way Sherlock looked at him and knew his brother knew the truth. Thankfully, Sherlock didn't say anything, just grasped John's hand.

"Come on, sir, I have a spleen waiting."

The doctor glanced between Mycroft and Greg a few times. "Shall we?" He indicated the door with his free hand and waited for Mycroft to procede him.


	9. Tempers

The government official led the way out of the briefing room with one last glance back at his Dom. Greg really was good at this, closing loopholes before they could be exploited. It was both frustrating and admirable.

"He's your goldfish," Sherlock pointed out when they were far enough away from John to speak without being overheard.

"He isn't a goldfish," Mycroft protested, "He's a seahorse."

Sherlock chuckled. Yes, Greg was like John in that respect, more intelligent than he appeared. They were both very creative as well.

"Boys, what are you talking about?" John asked as he caught them up.

"Nothing, sir. Idle chatter." Sherlock was anxious to get back to the mansion so he could play with his spleen.

John grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. "Try that again."

"Honestly, sir. It's nothing of import."

"Boy..."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Aquatic life. Seahorses and such."

John looked at him strangely. "Seahorses? Is Mycroft getting an aquarium?"

Sherlock laughed, then smothered it over. "I'm not sure, sir. We were just talking about the intelligence of sea creatures."

"What on earth brought that up?"

"Mycroft must have seen something that brought it to mind." He shrugged and stepped onto the lift that had just opened. As soon as the lift doors closed, he rested his head on his Dom's shoulder.

Mycroft stood sheepishly in the corner. He was glad John had told him to leave the house, but he had gone against Greg's orders. He felt bad for that.

The lift doors opened and he followed Sherlock and John as they exited. He kept close on their heels, not wanting to give the Dom reason to say anything.

John threw the keys to Greg's car at Mycroft. "You can drive."

Mycroft caught the keys easily. "Yes, sir."

John quickly bundled his boyfriend into the back.

Mycroft slipped behind the steering wheel. With a glance in the mirror to see that the others were both in, he pulled away. He tried to ignore to happy sounds from the back seat as he drove.  
John must have realised because he hushed Sherlock's laughing by putting his fingers in his mouth.

The detective immediately pouted, but, after glancing towards his brother, he sucked his bottom lip back in. He knew how it felt when John was upset with him and they were separated. He found that he didn't want to tease his brother about the situation.

John seemed to notice that as well. He leant forward and ruffled Sherlock's curls. "Good boy," he whispered in his ear.

Sherlock grinned. He wanted to mouth at John's crotch, but he turned his head to the side and rested his cheek against his leg instead. Maybe when they got to the mansion, they could play a bit before he got to work on the spleen, then he noticed his brother again. He looked like he was going to cry.

"Excuse me," he kissed John quickly and then disappeared between the seats. He reappeared in the passenger seat.

"You alright, big brother?"

Mycroft inhaled deeply, then let his breath out slowly. He mustered up a half smile for his brother. "I've been better. But... It's my own fault, how I feel, isn't it?"

Sherlock inclined his head. "I suppose, yeah. It was a big day for Greg yesterday. And we screwed up, he has a right to be angry."

"I screwed up," Mycroft whispered.

Sherlock rested a hand on his brother's knee. "We did it together. We always got in the worst trouble together as kids. I suppose that hasn't changed."

"I didn't tell you."

"Really? You seriously thought I wouldn't deduce what you were up to?"

"I didn't think, that's the problem." He hit the steering wheel with his palm.

"Mycroft!" John snapped. "None of that. You're driving. Keep your temper under control.

"Yes, sir." Mycroft bit his lip and gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He made a point to stare at the road and nowhere else.

"John," Sherlock glared at him over his shoulder.

The doctor raised an eyebrow in admonition, but he slid to the edge of his seat. He reached around and began rubbing Mycroft's shoulders.

"Try to relax, boy. When Greg comes home, it'll be a whole new day."

Mycroft sat forward, pulling free from John's grasp.

The second the car was in the drive Mycroft got out and raced into the house. He didn't even put it in the garage.

John dropped back in his seat. "Wonderful. I get to babysit a Holmes with an attitude. What is it with you two, anyway?" He directed the last at his sub.

"He's upset. And you rubbed his face into it. He hasn't got an attitude, he's scared he's fucked things up permanently with Greg!"

John's face was stern, but Sherlock continued. "Yes he deserved being sent home, yes he probably deserves being in his study for the rest of the day. He doesn't deserve ridicule!"

"What ridicule?" John threw up his hands in exasperation. "You two. You bottle your feelings up for years, then when you let them out, they spill all over the place." He scrubbed his face. "I honestly was trying to make things better."

"Well you got it fucking wrong, didn't you?!" Sherlock snapped. He turned on his heel and went in search of his brother.

John stared blankly for a minute before giving chase after him. This needed sorting. When he got inside, a quick search of the nearest rooms of the mansion revealed the two brothers in Mycroft's study. They were standing there, Sherlock holding his brother in a tight embrace.

John froze at the door. He should have realised Sherlock wouldn't just stick up for Mycroft, and he wouldn't just randomly comfort him. There wasn't that sort of relationship between them. If anything it was likely to be the other way round.

"Shall I phone Greg?" John asked.

"No," Sherlock replied, resting his hand in his older brother's hair. "Myc will just feel more guilty pulling him away from his first day."

The doctor stepped into the room. "Mycroft, I apologise, I was out of order."

The government official just sobbed harder.

"Alright. Here's what we're going to do. Sherlock, take your brother into our bedroom. Get yourself undressed and undress him, then get into bed with him. I'll be there shortly."

Sherlock glared at him. "No."

John stepped forward and pulled the two of them apart. "Go to the bedroom. Now."

Sherlock bit his lip, sticking up for Mycroft was one thing, being outright rude to John was something else. "John, I-"

"And take Mycroft."

Sherlock took Mycroft's hand and tugged it, trying to get him to come with him. When his brother didn't move, he took a page from his Dom's book and picked him up.

Surprisingly, Mycroft curled up on his side as much as he could and tucked his head under Sherlock's chin.

The detective took him through to the bedroom and dropped him. Then he pounced and began tickling the older man, trying to coax a smile.

Mycroft rolled away from him and onto the floor. "I'm not in the mood for your nonsense."

Leaning over the edge of the bed, Sherlock looked at his brother sadly. "I know, Myc. But tough." He leant over the edge and set about tickling his brother from his vantage point on the bed.

Mycroft tried to scoot away, but his brother fell on him, literally, and weighed him down. Eventually, he gave in and a giggle burst from his lips.

"See!" Sherlock continued his attack, sat back on his legs that struggled and thrashed about beneath him. "I win, Mycie, I win!"

The government official pushed at his brother. "Get up, Sherlock. I've got to pee." As soon as the younger Holmes slid off of him, Mycroft scrambled to the bathroom.

Just then, John made his appearance. He looked at his sub fondly. "See, that's why I wanted to give you some time alone. He needed it."

Sherlock didn't know what to say. It was silent until Mycroft reappeared. He glanced at John and immediately took a step back, it was a coincidence it was in Sherlock's direction. The detective wrapped his arms around him. "John's worried about you too."

"Worried-" Mycroft looked over his shoulder, then said words that rarely crossed his lips, "I don't understand."

Sherlock let his brother go and shrugged. "No. Me neither."

"God, you two…" John stepped towards them. "Take a seat on the bed." He waved his hand to urge them to move.

They sat on the bed, their thighs pressed together.

"Mycroft, I'm a Dom."

Two pairs of eyes rolled at the obvious statement.

"I may not be your Dom, but I still want to take care if you."

"Then why did you-"

John held his hand up to fore-stall him. Then he crouched down in front of him. "This is one big mess, we need to sort it. Together."

"It's too much." Mycroft fell over backwards onto the mattress. "I'd rather negotiate global politics. It would be easier."

Sherlock lay down beside his brother and curled around him.

"Ok, so you were a brat yesterday. Then this morning your attitude hadn't changed so Greg punished you. I took you out of that to go to his party, as short as it was, and then on the way home you get upset. Sherlock tried to help and I was short with you, that covers it all, don't you think?"

Mycroft groaned and covered his face. "Yes, sir. I have truly fucked up."

Sherlock held him tighter. "Yes, but Greg still loves you. Remember that."

"I overreacted in the car, sir," Mycroft conceded.

John nodded, not speaking. Until eventually, "You have two options, you can stay there together or you can go to your study like Greg wanted and Sherlock can get on with chopping that spleen to shreds."

Mycroft stared at the ceiling. He had the urge to cuddle with his brother and hide in the bed for all eternity, but that really wouldn't do. He sat up, wriggling out of his brother's arm. "I'll go do some work like Gregory wanted."

John nodded once. "Be absolutely sure that's what you want. If you want to stay there, I'll cover for you with Greg."

"No. No, sir. You've already covered for me once today. I'd best get some work done."

"Alright." John held out a hand. "I'll take your tie, jacket and waistcoat then." John waited for Mycroft to hand him the requested items. "There. Now you're all set."

Mycroft nodded and walked from the bedroom, head low.

"He'll be alright when Greg gets home."

Sherlock glanced over at his Dom. "Sir, I'm sorry."

"Yes, you should be." John closed in on him. "Did you hear yourself? The things you said? Not very respectful, were you?"

Sherlock opened his mouth, but closed it again, not knowing what to say.

"I understand why you did it, of course, but that doesn't excuse it."

"No, sir. But I had to stick up for Mycroft."

"Against me? It's not like I beat him up, Sherlock."

"No, sir," he repeated, feeling foolish, he realised how well John had done in getting everything sorted out, let alone without losing his temper.

"The rice is still on the living room floor. I think you should spend an hour there before you get to play with your spleen."

Sherlock slid off the bed, his bottom lip stuck out in full pout. He crawled along the floor towards the front room.

John watched him go and after a moment followed. He wouldn't put it past Sherlock to reroute.


	10. Unrest

The detective slid down the stairs on his bum. Once at the bottom, he crawled on through to the front room. There were the bowls of rice, just waiting for him, staring at him, like they were there just to wind him up. He supposed, as John followed him into the room, that's exactly what they were there for.

John nudged him in the back of the head. "Go on, boy. The rice isn't going to sort itself."

"But, sir, it's so boring and I have that spleen." He looked over his shoulder with pleading eyes.

"I don't care. Get started or it'll be 2 hours you're down there."

Sherlock sighed. "Yes, sir." As he started he realised how different it was on his own without Mycroft. It wasn't just that the task took longer, he missed the companionship. Even though they hadn't spoken to one another during their punishment, there had been the sense that they were in it together.

John collapsed in his usual seat and set the time on his phone. He wouldn't leave Sherlock down there for an hour, only half that time. Time was always dragged out for a Holmes, he wouldn't know he hadn't gone through with the entire punishment time.

Sherlock had been crawling around on the floor for five minutes. He felt a bit too warm, so he sat on his heels and took off his jacket. He let it fall to the floor behind him and set back to work.

Half an hour later when John's phone started buzzing to its own tune, Sherlock glanced up hopefully.

"Quite right, boy. Times up."

Sherlock sighed with relief.

"But leave that lot there," Johm ordered. "I have a feeling either you or your brother will be back to it sooner or later."

Crawling over to his Dom, Sherlock climbed into his lap. "Will you keep me company whilst I perform my experiments on the spleen?"

"Play with it, you mean."

"I don't play with body parts, John. I conduct serious experiments."

"Of course you do, pet. And of course I will." John's phone buzzed again. "I'd better get this." John stood up and moved to the door. Sherlock only heard half the conversation, but the other half was clear. "I'm sorry, babe," John offered when he hung up.

"You've got to go to work?"

"Yeah." He pocketed his phone. "They need me."

Sherlock had leapt to his feet. "I need you, sir."

"I know you do, pet, but it's not the same."

"What, you save lives there, but you don't here? Is that what you meant?"

"No! It's different, Sherlock, and you know it is. At least now you can look after your brother. It'll only be a few hours. I shouldn't be back much later than Greg."

The detective's lip popped out and he was clearly getting stroppy.

"Pet, don't. Just don't. I'm putting you in charge. That means you can't act like a four year old. I'll drop by and let Mycroft know he's to answer to you."

"He won't listen-"

"He will, Sherlock. You're in charge. Keep your brother out of trouble, and I'll make it up to."

"Promise?"

"Yes, you prat, I promise. Like I said, I'll warn Mycroft quite clearly."

With great scepticism, Sherlock climbed to his feet. He wanted to say goodbye to John properly, with a kiss. Not to mention, he was curious what he would say to his brother.

"Ah, no, pet. You wait right here. I'll not have you snooping until I leave."

"But-"

"If I have to tie you to the chair while I speak to your brother, I will. I need to speak to him and explain the circumstances. Alone. When I've gone you can spend whatever time with him you like."

"Yes, sir," Sherlock sighed.

John waited until Sherlock had sat on the sofa, then he headed towards Mycroft's office. Once there, he paused for a moment in the doorway, trying to take his measure of the man. All in all, Mycroft looked tired.

He cleared his throat. "Need some help?"

Mycroft's head snapped up, "John? I mean, sir? No, sir, everything's fine."

John nodded slowly. "I've had a call from work. I need to go in for a few hours. I'm putting Sherlock in charge. Over you."

The corners of Mycroft's mouth turned down in a frown. "Surely I heard you wrong. I thought you said you were putting my brother in charge."

"You know I did. You're not making the best decisions right now. Let him do it."

"Yes, but-"

"But what?" John folded his arms across his chest. "Carry on, Mycroft."

"Isn't it obvious? I'm a switch. He's not."

"And he's the one thinking clearly. Is this really going to be a problem?" He uncrossed his arms and stepped further into the room, very much Captain Watson.

Mycroft watched him for a moment, with a deep frown. "No, sir," he replied after a moment.

"Really? Because the look on your face says otherwise."

"Sir, please. I don't want you to call Gregory. I won't cause any trouble." He looked sincere... for the moment.

John gave a sharp nod. "See that you don't."

"I will give Sherlock permission to punish you, should you give him reason. He has a lot riding on this, and he stuck by you earlier through your little temper tantrum so behave and do not give him reason to do something he won't like."

"No, sir," Mycroft grumbled.  
When John left the office, Mycroft dropped his head into his hands. How badly had he miss-stepped that his brother was in charge of him? Even worse than he had imagined.  
All he knew was waiting for John to leave and then picking a fight with his brother was not the way to go. He pulled his diary out to scribble some notes and started typing it up, ignoring the tired drooping of his head.

John found Sherlock waiting for him at the front door.

"How did he take it, sir?" the detective asked with curiosity.

"He came around." John wrapped his arms around his boy. "I think he'll behave for you."

Sherlock smirked. "This feels so wrong."

"Good."

Sherlock frowned. "Good, sir?"

"Think about it, pet. You've said before, the last thing we need is for all of us to get a taste for Domming. Then we're all screwed."

"They were arguing over who would be able to sub, but I get your point."

John gave him a peck on the lips, then pulled away. "Bye, babe." He slipped out the door, closing it behind him.

Sherlock stood there for a few minutes, then he headed towards the lab his brother had set up for him.

For once, the idea of winding Mycroft up didn't even occur to him. It was practically the only time he wouldn't get caught and punished for it, but he still walked in the other direction. Away from the study.

Things were different now, he was close to Mycroft without the continual interference. He whistled to himself as he took the spleen from the mini fridge. He set it on the lab table and got out his tools. Soon he was happily slicing the spleen into thin shreds.

The other side of the manor, Mycroft was getting bored of work. That never happened, he loved his job. However, he couldn't help but blame it for his attitude yesterday and forcing him to get in trouble. He pushed everything to the side of his desk, then stood. He simply couldn't sit there anymore. Mycroft went in search of his brother, starting in the lab.

Sherlock was so engrossed in the experiment he was doing, he didn't notice Mycroft enter the room.

Mycroft’s little brother was leaning over his microscope, twisting some of the dials to get a clearer image. he pulled up a lab stool and took a seat. He watched his brother silently for a while, then he leaned forward. "Lock, I'm bored."

Sherlock, alerted by the scraping lab stool, looked up. "Then go and entertain yourself, brother-mine. Aren't you meant to be working?" While he spoke he changed the slides on the microscope.

"I can't." Mycroft picked up a scalpel and examined it. "I can't concentrate." He started digging at the surface of the lab table with it.

"Oi! You'll make it blunt."

"I'll buy you another."

Sherlock reached over and snatched it away. "No. You won't damage this one in the first place."

"Can I help?"

"No! You don't know anything about biology or chemistry." He waved his hand at his brother trying to get him to go away. "Stick to political intrigue. It's safer."

"I did biology and chemistry at college, Sherlock."

"Only because our parents made you. You hated it."

Mycroft dropped his head. "Fine," he grumbled. He pushed his stool back and walked from the room.

Sherlock groaned. God his brother was all over the place and all he had wanted was to spend some time with him. He put the remainder of the spleen away along with his slides, he didn't want to waste them, and went after his brother. He wasn't in his office, the front room or the kitchen. When he found him, it was in the play room.

Mycroft was just sat on the bench next to the cross he had been tied to that morning.

"What are you doing in here, Mycroft?"

"I'm allowed."

"Technically you're not, but that's not why I asked."

Mycroft picked up the hood that Greg had let drop to the bench earlier in the day. He closed his fist around it. "Why did you ask, then, brother-mine?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"No way am I letting you Dom me. You're not even a switch."

"I wasn't suggesting it. You're the one that came in here."

"You aren't going to boss me around either."

"You agreed, Mycroft. You promised John. Are you really going back on that?"

The government official stood, throwing the hood down. He pushed his way roughly past his brother.


	11. Chapter 11

Sherlock reached out and snagged Mycroft’s shirt collar. "Talk to me, brother dear. If not as the one in charge, then as your brother."

"How do I know you're not going to make up stories to the Doms when they get home?"

"You know I wouldn't do that. I didn't even do that as a child." Sherlock gave his brother a little shake. "Do you really think so little of me?"

"It would be your perfect chance."

"You know, Mycroft, I'm not exactly happy John's gone either. He was going to help me in the lab."

"So why didn't you let me help?"

"He's a doctor, big brother, or have you forgotten?"

Mycroft tried to twist out of his grip, but didn't succeed. "Let me go! I will not be manhandled by my baby brother!"

"Then don't act like I need to! You know full well how this is going to work, Mycroft. You, for some reason, are just stirring shit up. Do you want Greg to be more pissed off with you when he gets home?"

Mycroft ducked his head. An angry Dom was the last thing he wanted. Still... "What do you want me to say? That I need to be controlled? Well, I don't."

"Really, brother mine? I've seen your… emotions 5 times in the last 18 hours alone! I never saw that much of them even when we were children. You want to be dominated right now and are pissed off our Doms are successful in their jobs."

"No! I'm proud of them. I just... damn!" He tried to get away again, but Sherlock kept a grip on him.

"You need to calm down. Either you do it, or I help you do it."

Mycroft actually laughed. "You? Make me do it? How on earth do you seem to work that one out, little brother?" He couldn't help himself, why was he pushing? Why was he making things worse?

Sherlock pressed his lips together into a thin line as he grabbed his brother's flailing arm and twisted it up his back. He slammed him into the cross face first. "This is how I work it out."

"Sherlock, get off."

"No. Not until you calm down. Once you're calm you can go about your day."

"I don't want to work!" He snapped. "I've had enough of it, it's all I ever do!"

Sherlock didn't let him go, just pressed him against the cross harder. "If you didn't have your work you'd be as lost as me without mine. You couldn't stand letting someone else have the responsibility."

"It's not world war three, Sherlock. There's nothing important happening!"

"There's always something important happening and you know it. Now you know I can't Dom you, but I can make you bloody uncomfortable until the proper Doms get home."

"You wouldn't dare!" Mycroft growled.

Sherlock reached with his free hand and grasped a pair of handcuffs from a nearby table. He closed them around Mycroft's wrist, then he reached for his other arm, snagging it and cuffing it as well.

"Wouldn't I? This is why John put me in charge, your temper is temperamental right now. Which can't be good, seeing as all you do is hide yourself, we both do." He pulled Mycroft away from the cross and forced him to his knees. "Now stay there."

"Or what?!" The government official could have kicked himself. Part of him felt like he was watching a crash in slow motion and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Sherlock tried to think what John would do in this position. He decided he would use the assets he had to his advantage. Mycroft's cock was caged, both of theirs were. He would use that.

He forced Mycroft's trousers down around struggling hips and hooked a chain that pulled out of the floor to the tip of the cage.

"You're just loving this, aren't you?" Mycroft spat.

Sherlock shook his head sadly. "You know better than that. I would have enjoyed spending time with you later in the day. We could have cuddled or played Operation. Now look where we are."

Sherlock finally stepped back. "You haven't let your temper rule things since we were kids."

"I know," Mycroft ducked his head, feeling ashamed of himself.

Sherlock looked around the play room and spotted a chair. He pulled it up close to his brother.

"It's up to you, Myc. If you want me to, I'll stay right here until you get control of yourself."

Mycroft nodded, but only slightly. "Okay."

The younger brother dropped his hand into Mycroft's hair and smoothed it back. "You're just tired, exhausted even. If you get a hold over yourself I'll untie you before they get home and we won't even mention it."

Mycroft leaned towards his brother, wanting more of his touch. Sherlock took the hint and moved his chair closer. The government official rested his head in his brother's lap and closed his eyes.

"If you had just asked for this rather than stropping…"

"I know! But you can't tell me you've never done it, I know you have."

"Yes, to my Dom. Not my brother."

Mycroft chuckled at that. It had an edge of hysteria to it that Sherlock didn't like.

"Hush, Myc. I've got you." He kept smoothing down his brother's hair. Sherlock was slow to notice how much Mycroft had calmed. So concerned with running his hand through his hair, he didn't realise his brother had fallen asleep, his head in his lap.

"Oh, Mycroft," the detective whispered. "John is right. We're more alike than I ever dreamt." He let out a great sigh. It seemed he was stuck there for a while. Sherlock leant back in the chair and rested his head against the against the cross.

He didn't realise how long they had been there until the door went downstairs. He looked around, but still Mycroft didn't wake. It was Greg who appeared at the playroom door.

He crossed silently over to Sherlock. "Gave you a spot of trouble, did he?" His look was halfway between irritated and amused.

"He was just wound up, sir. I helped him calm down, that's all."

"Really?"

"Do you think I'd let him fall asleep on my lap if it was anything else?"

Greg glared at him.

"Sir," he added belatedly.

"Better. But you're right, of course."

Mycroft blinked his eyes open and raised his head. Seeing the Superintendent, he bit his lip worriedly.

"Feeling better?" Sherlock asked. "Less edgy?" He gave his brother's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "I told Greg you needed some time to wind down."

"Which I don't totally believe." The Dom walked around the pair of them. "I am not an idiot," he stated plainly.

"Sir?" Sherlock asked, feeling rather unnerved.

"Of course not, sir," Mycroft whispered. "You wouldn't have got your promotion if you were."

Greg bent down and snagged the chain between Mycroft's cock and the floor. "Then what's this for?"

"Sir, please, Sherlock was only trying to help me. I was out of control, sir." Mycroft looked from his brother to his Dom. "Please. He did a good job with me."

"I wasn't looking to blame anything on Sherlock," Greg straightened up. "I was wondering why your brother needed to do such a thing when we weren't here."

Mycroft relaxed visibly. "Like I said, it was my fault. I was out of control." He looked down at the floor, embarrassed. "I don't know why I feel so... unmoored."

"Maybe you need a holiday," Sherlock suggested. At Greg's look, he bowed his head.

"No, Sherlock, go on," Greg insisted.

"He said he was tired of work, sir."

Greg's entire countenance changed. "My Mycroft is tired of work?" He crouched down by his boyfriend. "Maybe you're right, Sherlock."

The detective thought it best not to comment.

"Is that true?" The Superintendent asked of Mycroft.

The kneeling man nodded. "Yes, sir."

Greg took over smoothing down Mycroft's hair. "That's not like you. Not at all. Maybe you're right," he said, looking at the detective. "Maybe we do need a holiday."


End file.
